Coming of Age
by Jules3
Summary: You're going to have to read it.... starts when the gang are high school/college age people. Written awhile ago...(C&M)
1. Coming of Age, Part One

Disclaimer: They're mine! ALL MINE!!! ::Evil laughter:: Well, a girl can dream. I tell ya what, I'll just take Matthew Perry, and I'll let Bright, Kauffman, and Crane (the legal owners) keep the other five. Generous? I think so. (For the record, there's really no use in suing me... )  
Okay, here's the basic info that you should probably know before you start to read this (and don't worry... I know how annoying these intro pieces are, so I'll make it as short as possible!) Basically, I'm creating a story that begins when Monica is in her senior year of high school and Chandler and Ross are sophomores at NYU (she's 18 and they're 20). Some of the details might be off, but hey... it is, after all, a fanFICTION. So... it's waaaaay before the palatial New York apartments, way before Janice, Richard, Kathy, and Pete... way before pretty much everything we know. One of the things that HAS already happened is the Thanksgiving where Monica and Chandler meet (as he subsequently calls her fat...). So that is an indication... it's kind of what could have happened if Monica and Chandler had gotten together during their younger years... hope you like it! Please let me know what you think!  
And, just for the record... I know that this story has, in a way, been done before, in various different ways, but I wanted to do my version, so bear with me. (After all, how many versions of London are floating around out there? And yes, I'm guilty of that one, as well.) Anyway, so if you're going to tell me that it's been done, I'm aware. Thanks for the concern. So this is my rendition... if you get to the point where you're thinking "Hey, someone else has done something with a similar idea..." and you're sick of it, just click that little "back" button on your browser. Otherwise, enjoy! And thanks to everyone who has been so nice with comments and feedback!! I hope that you enjoy this. :)  
  
  
"Coming!" a voice called from somewhere within the Geller household. Chandler sighed as he wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on his brow and glared at the cause: an exceptionally heavy box of books that Ross had left behind while he went on his internship through Egypt. Chandler laughed inwardly as he imagined Ross standing in the desert watching someone dig... what a way to spend a semester. He looked up and smiled as Mrs. Geller opened the front door. "Chandler! Oh, it's so nice to see you. We don't see nearly enough of you now that Ross is gone... how is everything going at school?" she asked as she ushered him into the house.  
"Pretty good, thanks, Mrs. Geller... it's kind of strange without a roommate, but it's going well."  
"Oh, Chandler, I told you, call me Judy... it makes me feel old to hear you call me 'Mrs. Geller' still!"  
"Okay... Judy," he complied awkwardly.  
"Thank you so much for dropping those books off for us... you look sweaty, would you like some water?" she offered.  
"That would be great, thank you." Chandler smiled as he followed her into the kitchen. "So how is everything going with you guys?" he asked as he accepted the glass of ice water that she handed to him.  
"Quite well, thank you... we got a letter from Ross yesterday. He's getting quite into the whole digging thing... I think he's glad that he decided to major in paleontology. Have you decided what you are going to major in yet?"  
"No, not yet," Chandler replied. "I figure I have plenty of time... I know I'll find something once I get into it."  
"Yes, of course," she answered as the phone rang. "Hello?" Chandler listened to her end of the conversation and wondered why her voice went from cheerful to frustrated. "Well, I don't have a car, dear, your father has it at work, so I can't come and get you... can't you get a ride with someone?" She listened for a moment and said, "Well, I guess you'll either have to wait there until your father gets home or walk home, Monica." Chandler stepped in front of her to get her attention. "Yes?" Mrs. Geller asked as she covered the mouthpiece.   
"If there's a problem I can pick Monica up from wherever she is, Judy. I don't have anywhere to be this afternoon."  
"Are you sure? It's just that she's up at school and her junk-bucket of a car has broken down again."  
"Of course... it's no problem," Chandler reassured her.  
"Okay, Monica, you remember Ross's friend Chandler, don't you? Yes, well, he is here and has offered to pick you up... yes... okay... see you later, dear." As she hung up the phone, Judy turned to Chandler with a grateful smile. "Thank you so much, Chandler... I swear, that car of hers... if it breaks down one more time I'm going to get rid of it myself. That girl..." She trailed off as Chandler began edging toward the door. "Well anyway, she's in the senior parking lot over at Lincoln High... do you know where that is?" After assuring her that he did and that everything would be fine, she thanked him again for both bringing the books back and for collecting Monica.  
  
As he pulled into the high school parking lot, Chandler scanned the area for Monica and her "junk-bucket." He spotted an old and rusted car with the hood up on the far side of the lot and cruised over. He turned off the car and got out, greeted by two bodies bent over and peering into the engine of the car. "Monica?" he inquired. One of the heads emerged from the hood and turned to face him. He was shocked by what he saw. Instead of the little fat girl he remembered from Thanksgiving last year, he was faced with someone who could only be described as beautiful. There wasn't an ounce of fat on her body. Her hair was in a clip with wisps tucked behind her ear, and as she smiled she took off her sunglasses. "Hi, Chandler... thank you so much for saving my skin... I really should ditch this car but it gets me places, y'know? Well, usually, anyway..." she trailed off as she became aware that he was staring at her. "Is everything okay?" she asked.  
"Uhh... yes, of course... no problem... you just look... different than last year... great..." he trailed off, embarrassed and blushing. She smiled.  
"Thank you." As she tucked another wisp of jet-black hair behind her ear, the other person straightened and turned toward the two of them. He was a little bit taller than Chandler, wearing only a pair of athletic shorts and running shoes.   
"It's probably the battery, Mon," came the booming voice. He looked at Chandler. "And who might you be?" he asked.  
"Nick, this is Chandler... Chandler, Nick," she said.  
"A pleasure," Chandler said.  
"Yeah... I woulda taken Mon home myself, but we've got practice this afternoon."   
"He's on the soccer team," Monica explained. As she thanked Nick for his help, she gave him a hug, grabbed her bag, slammed the hood of her car, and followed Chandler to his car. "Thank you again for doing this," she said.  
"Hey, forget about it... and don't thank me too much... it might go to my head," he joked. She smiled. As he started the car, Monica waved to Nick and sank back into the seat. "So… is that your boyfriend?" Chandler asked, trying not to sound too interested.  
"Hmm? Oh, Nick? Nah, he's just a friend... that's all. Nice guy, but not my type. My boyfriend and I broke up a month ago, and he was kind of my support system… you know how it goes."  
"Oh... yeah," Chandler replied, wondering why he was glad to hear that. They drove in silence for a few minutes until she broke it.  
"So, how is college going?"  
"Can't complain... it's kind of strange without Ross around, but classes and everything are going well... how are things with you?"  
"Pretty good, thanks... apart from that damn car!" she joked. They chatted for the rest of the drive back to the Gellers' house, Chandler marveling at how different she seemed... older... more mature... and hot. As he pulled into the driveway, Monica grabbed her bag from the backseat and turned to thank him once again for "rescuing" her. "My knight in shining armor!" she joked. Chandler grinned, and looked at her, trying to decide how to broach the subject without looking desperate or pathetic.   
"Hey, listen... would you maybe want to go out sometime? I mean, with Ross gone and everything, I have a lot of spare time, so if you'd like to maybe catch up on old times or something... unless you don't, in which case, forget I asked..."  
"I'd love to," she cut him off, laughing. "When?"  
"Well, let's see," he pondered, surprised that she'd agreed. "I am free... every day until next week, at which point I'm free every day after that."   
She smiled again. "How about Friday night, then?"  
"Okay... pick you up at seven?"  
"Sure."  
As he drove away, he marveled at the fact that she'd accepted the date... and worried about how well that would go down with her brother, his best friend.  
  
As Friday night rolled around, he found himself both nervous and excited. He showered and shaved, changed into a pair of khaki pants and a light blue button-down shirt, combed his hair, sprayed on some cologne, and headed out to pick up his date.  
  
"Where are my earrings?!" Monica screeched from the top of the stairs.   
"I have no idea, Monica... did you look in your jewelry box?" her mother asked.  
"Do you actually think I'm THAT stupid?" Monica exclaimed, frustrated, and stomped back into her bedroom as the doorbell rang.  
"I'll get it," Jack Geller called as he walked to the door to greet a nervous Chandler, who was smiling and holding a single white rose.   
"Good evening, sir... I'm here to pick up daughter... um, your Monica... I mean..." his voiced trailed off as he silently cursed himself.  
"Come on in, Chandler, she's just getting ready. You know how the females are... never ready for anything. If an asteroid was about to hit, it would have to wait until the women of the world were done powdering their noses."  
"Thanks, Dad," Monica said as she walked into the room. She had her hair up in a twist and was wearing a short black dress and sandals and had a small black purse thrown over her shoulder. "Hi, Chandler," she greeted him.  
"Hi," he said, as her father left the room. "Wow... you look great," he complimented her, handing her the rose.   
"Awww... thank you, that's so sweet," she said as she smelled the flower. "'Bye, Mom, 'bye Dad! Don't wait up!" she called as Chandler escorted her out the door. Once they were in the car, she turned to face him. "You look great, too," she said. As he grinned, she asked, "So where are we going on this beautiful evening?"   
  
As the night wore on, both Monica and Chandler became aware of the fact that they were each having the best time that they had had in quite awhile. They went out for a nice dinner, after which Chandler asked if she would like to go for a walk through Central Park. She enthusiastically agreed and they walked toward the park from the restaurant. As they walked along, their chatter quieted and after a few moments of silence, Chandler nervously reached for Monica's hand, worried that she would pull it back. As he felt her lace her fingers through his own, he smiled and turned to look at her. She smiled back, and broke the silence. "You know, I umm... I kinda... had a crush on you last year when you came to our house for Thanksgiving dinner." Chandler stopped walking, surprised.   
"Really? Why? I was such a dork... that Flock-of-Seagulls haircut and all..."  
"Yeah, well, I thought you were cute. Anyway... yeah, I had a crush on you."   
After looking at her for a moment, he worked up the courage to reply. "Yeah, well, it's okay... I guess we're even then." Off of her confused look, he continued. "Because I've got one now." Equally surprised, she turned to face him, not knowing what to say. As he gazed into her clear blue eyes, he found his free hand lightly touching the side of her face as she gazed back at him. He slowly leaned in toward her and kissed her, relieved to feel her kissing back, and found that despite the fact that they were in the middle of a public park, he didn't want to end that kiss for anything. After a few moments, the kiss did end and they opened their eyes to look at each other again. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, as she blushed and dropped her eyes to the ground. He smiled and tightened his grip on her hand as they continued walking. She shivered slightly and he quickly slipped off the light windbreaker he was wearing and draped it around her. She smiled thankfully as he took her hand once again and they walked in silence.  
  
The next morning, Chandler smiled as he woke up to the memory of the goodnight kiss they had shared as he dropped her off at home after their date. He remembered how happy he had been when she agreed to meet him for a picnic lunch the next day. He smiled again as he rolled out of bed to get dressed. They spent virtually every day of that week together when they weren't in classes. They went to movies, dinners, parties, and pretty much everywhere there was anything worth doing. One night, Chandler picked her up outside her house and grinned as she jumped into the car and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "So, Mr. Mystery... what was the big secret... where are you taking me?"   
He grinned and replied, "I told you I wasn't going to tell you until we got there... you'll just have to wait, beautiful." She smiled at his compliment and sighed jokingly, buckling her seatbelt and leaning back to gaze out the window.   
  
As he pulled into a seemingly deserted parking lot and turned off the engine, Monica turned to face him with a confused look. "Where are we?"  
He smiled. "C'mon."  
He jumped out of the car and grabbed a basket and blanket out of the trunk with one hand and Mon's hand with the other. As they walked around the row of trees that had edged the parking lot, they came into a vast field with one tree a short distance in front of them. "What are we doing here?" He didn't answer, but instead pulled her along beside him. Once they got a few feet away from the tree, he let go of her hand and spread the blanket on the grass that was still warm from the afternoon sun. He placed the basket on top of it, took Monica's hands in his own, and pulled her down to sit beside him. He gently laid back, again pulling her with him, and said simply, "Look up." As she did, she was faced with the most brilliant stars she had ever seen. He smiled as he saw how surprised she was. "They look a lot brighter when you get away from the bright city lights," he explained, turning his own face toward the stars. After gazing upward for a few moments and simply enjoying the feel of her hand in his, he felt her move and all of a sudden her face was right above his. "Thank you," she whispered, and kissed him more passionately than he could remember having ever been kissed before.   
As she pulled away, he smiled and said, "That's not all." He sat up and opened the basket, pulling out a bottle of sparkling grape juice and a basket of strawberries. She smiled as he lit two candles and filled both glasses. After they had eaten, Monica felt the warmth begin to fill her body as she laid back down and turned to look at the profile of the man laying beside her. As she gazed absentmindedly at him, he turned to her and smiled. "Hey," he said, softly joking. "I brought you here to gaze at STARS."   
"I know," she said. "It's just that there's something even more gorgeous to look at and it's not up there." He blushed and rolled onto his side to kiss her again. As they kissed under the stars, he was overcome by how happy he was simply to be next to her and to be allowed to kiss her. He kissed her mouth, her face, and her neck, not ever wanting to stop. After awhile, he pulled away and looked at her and kissed her lips again. "Monica..." he whispered.  
"Yes?" she whispered back. He paused for a moment, trying to find the words without sounding like a fool.  
"I... I'm falling for you."  
"And I for you," she replied. "Head over heels." He leaned in and kissed her again, and then rested his head beside hers and watched her as she watched the stars.  
  
Two weeks later, as Monica was lying on her bed studying for a test the next day, her phone rang. "Hello?" she answered.  
"Yes, good afternoon," came a badly disguised voice. "I have a collect call from a sad and pathetic man who is crazy about the most gorgeous woman in the world... do you accept the charges?"   
Monica giggled and replied, "Sorry, no gorgeous women here... tell him he must have the wrong number."  
"Hey beautiful," came the voice she had become so accustomed to hearing. "Hey yourself," she answered, smiling. "What's up?"  
"Oh, nothing much... but there's a party on the campus tomorrow night and I thought that it might be a good way to start the weekend... whaddaya say?"  
"Sure!" Mon agreed, excited at the idea of a college party. "What do I wear?"  
"Does it matter? You'd look gorgeous in a paper bag... hey, that wouldn't be half bad... having a date in nothing more than a bag..."  
"Chandler!"  
"Sorry, sorry... wear whatever you want to... I'll pick you up around eight, okay?"  
"'Kay...bye!"  
  
Saturday night rolled around and Monica was in a frenzy, trying to decide what to wear. She was just adding the finishing touches to her makeup when she heard the doorbell. "Could somebody get that please?" She turned and grabbed her purse from the bed and checked her reflection once more as she heard her father greet Chandler. She descended the stairs to be greeted by his smiling face as he looked up at her.   
"So you decided against the paper bag, huh? Probably a smart choice... after all, we wouldn't want to get any college guys' hopes up, now would we?" he joked after her father had left the room. She giggled.  
"Chandler!" she hissed as he laughed and escorted her out the door.  
  
As they entered the party, Chandler scanned the crowd for some faces that he knew. "There's a group of my friends," she yelled above the noise, pointing across the room. Monica nodded and allowed him to lead her over to where they were standing. "Hey, guys!" he greeted them. "This," he said placing his hands on Monica's shoulders, "is my girlfriend, Monica." She smiled nervously and exchanged hellos with the people before her.   
One of them, a tall, redheaded girl who introduced herself as Kelly, turned to her smiling and said, "Well, it's nice to finally meet you, Monica. Chandler never shuts up about you... it's always "Monica this," and "Monica that..." She trailed off as Chandler glared at her, blushing. "Well anyway, glad you could come. Beer?" she offered.   
"No, thanks," Monica declined, deciding that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to get drunk at her first college party, especially since she was underage to begin with. Kelly turned to Chandler.   
"No, I'm good," he replied and laced his fingers through Mon's. She smiled to herself, glad that she wouldn't be the only one not drinking. He flashed her a grin that told her he knew exactly what she was thinking and, after about an hour of mingling, suggested that they take a walk around the campus to get some fresh air. He was getting kind of tired of having to yell over the noise and was ready to take a break from the wall of smoke that was everywhere. Monica agreed, and they made their way to the door, saying goodbye to the people they had been talking to.  
  
Once outside, Chandler breathed in deeply. "Ahhhh... nothing like a good party to trash your liver and your lungs," he mused, pleased when Monica giggled. He turned to her and asked, "Did you have fun, or was it boring? I'm sorry if you didn't have a good time... I wanted my friends to meet you and..."   
"I had a great time!" Monica interrupted, smiling. "It was fun, and I was with you... an added bonus!" Chandler grinned at the unexpected compliment and took her hand.   
"So... where shall we walk to?" he asked.  
She shrugged. "I dunno... where do you usually go when you're here?"   
After a moment of thought, he replied, "Well, I'm usually in class or in my dorm."   
"Hey... I've never seen your dorm," she said. "Ross would never let me in there when he was here."  
"Well, it's nothing special... you sure you want to see it?" he asked.  
"Sure, why not?" she replied.  
  
They got to his door and Monica giggled when she saw the doodles on the writing board that was tacked to it. "Mon's Man" was printed across the top and there were just random caricatures covering the rest of the space. "Did you draw these?" she asked, marveling at how good they were.   
"Yep," Chandler said as he unlocked the door. "It's how I procrastinate when I know I should actually be studying." Monica laughed as he opened the door for her and closed it behind them. She glanced around the room and was surprised at how simple it was. Since Ross was gone, Chandler had moved the room around so that there was one bed in the middle of the room and his desk was by the window. There were drawings, posters, and random clippings from magazines and newspapers stuck to the walls and a TV on top of the dresser against the other wall. A stereo was beside it and there was a framed picture of Monica next to his bed. She blushed when she saw this, and he noticed. "I love that picture," he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and softly kissing her neck.   
"Ugh, why?" she groaned, remembering the day it was taken. They had been walking through the park, and he had picked a daisy for her, knowing that they were her favorite flowers. A little while later, they had stopped to sit at a table and she bowed her head to smell the flower. At that moment, as if from nowhere, Chandler had produced a camera and taken her photo, which turned out to be a rather decent shot, with the sunlight behind her and a small smile on her lips.  
"Because... it shows how beautiful you are," he murmured in her ear. She turned to gaze up at him and he leaned in and kissed her softly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he placed his on her waist. Monica ran her hands through the hair on the back of his head and he ran his over her back. He gently lowered her onto the bed while they kissed and he took off his jacket as he lowered himself on top of her. As the kisses became more intense, he moved his hands to the front of her jeans and began to unbutton them. He felt Monica grab his wrists and he stopped kissing her and looked deep into her eyes, questioning with his own. She tried to find the words without scaring him.   
"I..." she stopped, gazing up at him, wondering how he was going to react. "I... I've never done this before." Chandler paused in momentary confusion and then reeled backward like he'd been slapped, apologizing at once.  
"Oh, God, Mon, I'm so sorry, I didn't know... please don't think I'm some horny jerk who's just trying to get in your pants because I'm not. I love you, and I'm sorry if this pressured you, and you know I'd never want to do that, and..." he stopped when he noticed that she was smiling up at him. "What?" he asked.  
"You love me?" she asked, not completely surprised that he felt it, but surprised that he said it.  
He dropped his eyes and ran his hand nervously through his hair. "Well..." he looked up and into her crystal blue eyes. "Yeah, of course I do. I'm crazy in love with you, Mon." She got up off the bed and went to stand in front of him.  
"I love you too," she whispered, and gave him a soft kiss that gradually began to build. He pulled away and looked at her.  
"I'm sorry, Mon... if I had known I never would have..." he began apologizing again, but was cut off my Monica's hand on his lips. He kissed her fingertips and looked at her intently.  
"Chandler... don't be sorry," she whispered. "I'm not. Just... a little more time." He kissed her deeply and rested his forehead against hers and laced their fingers together.  
"C'mon, gorgeous," he murmured. "I'll drive you home." She nodded and followed him out the door with their fingers still intertwined.  
  
Chandler awoke to the phone in his dorm room ringing at 9:00 the next morning. Once he had located the handset from under a pile of papers on his desk, he answered it. "Hello?"  
"Hey, sweetie... I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Monica's voice came clearly through the earpiece and Chandler smiled to himself.  
"Yeah, but it was worth it." He heard Mon laugh and smiled again.  
"Listen, I'm sorry to call so early, but I meant to ask you last night. You see, um, prom's kind of coming up, and my best friend Rachel wants me to go and I totally understand if you don't want to, if you think it's lame or whatever, I mean I really couldn't blame you so if you hate the idea then..."  
"Mon!" Chandler interjected, laughing. "I'd love to take you to your prom."  
"Really?"  
"Of course, really. When is it?"  
"Next Saturday... I would have waited to call you later today but Rachel's making me get to the mall at ten when they open so that we get 'maximum shopping hours' in which to find dresses. Are you sure you don't mind going?"  
"I'm sure... do you have the plans yet?"  
"Not exactly... I know it's at the Hilton and we're going to go out to dinner with Rachel and Chip beforehand and we'll probably get a room in the same hotel to crash in afterward, but I'll call you this afternoon and let you know the specifics, ok? I have to run though, Rachel's bugging me to get out the door." Chandler laughed and agreed, still chuckling when he hung up the phone. The following week went by in a flash of dresses, hairdos, transportation issues, and Rachel obsessing over every little detail. It was ultimately decided that they would all meet at Monica's house where the limo would pick them up and take them to dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant called Rigatoni's and then to the dance. Saturday night rolled around and Monica and Rachel were in her bedroom getting ready. Rachel had decided on a light pink dress that she said made her feel like Cinderella because the bodice at the top showed her figure and from the waist it spread out and cascaded to the floor. Monica had gone for virtually the opposite and had decided on a simple, navy blue slinky and form-fitting dress that reached the floor and had a slit halfway up her leg. The back scooped down toward the small of her back where it met in a "V" and the entire dress had an almost shimmery look to it as if there were tiny specks of glitter sprinkled throughout the fabric. She had her hair in a French twist with some sapphire clips holding a few tendrils off her face. Matching sapphire earrings were in her ears and a similar necklace was clasped around her neck. The doorbell rang and the girls shrieked, grabbing one another and jumping up and down until they realized with horror that they might cause their hair to fall out of place. "Monica? Rachel?" Judy's voice floated up the stairs and the girls shrieked silently and dashed toward the stairs. Rachel ran down to greet Chip and Monica grinned from the top of the stairs as she heard Rachel yelp with delight when she saw her date. Mon took a deep breath and slowly descended the stairs. Chandler turned as he heard light footsteps on the stairs and his breath caught when he saw her emerge, feet first and then, with each step, more of her body until her head was visible and she gazed back at him. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked at him nervously while he looked back at her in awe. Once he regained his composure, he walked to her and stopped in front of her with a box in his hands. "You look... amazing," he said exhaling the breath he had been holding since he first laid eyes on her. She smiled.  
"So do you," she said, taking note of how hot he looked in his tux. He opened the box he was holding and took out a beautiful corsage made of white roses. She grinned as he slid it onto her wrist and then she pinned a white rose onto the lapel of his jacket. They stood graciously while Mr. and Mrs. Geller took photos until Monica eventually reminded them of the awaiting reservations. She smiled as she took the arm that Chandler held out to her and waved to her parents as they followed Rachel and Chip to the limousine waiting at the end of the driveway.  
  
Once they got to the dance, Rachel dragged Chip along behind her to say hello to a group of her friends that she could see standing on the far side of the hall. Monica looked around at the decorations, proud that she had been a member of the committee in charge of them. Chandler noticed what she was looking at. "They look awesome, Mon. You guys did a great job." Monica smiled, thinking to herself how lucky she was to have found the perfect boyfriend.   
"Oh, hey, I found out some interesting news this afternoon," she said as she turned to face him. He looked at her, waiting for her to continue. "It's not really big, just... I got a letter today in the mail. I got into NYU." Chandler's eyes widened and a grin took over his face as he picked her up by the waist and swung her around.  
"Really?! You're going to be at NYU in the fall? With me? We'll be together?" Monica grinned at his reaction.  
"Yup. I'm gonna be a freshman all over again."  
"This is great!" Chandler exclaimed, leaning in and kissing her hard on the mouth. "C'mon, let's dance!" He led her onto the dance floor and they lost themselves in the huge crowd of people dancing to the upbeat music. After a few songs had gone by, the deejay decided to slow the pace down and he began to play a slower song. Chandler took Monica by the waist and pulled her up against his body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled as she looked into his clear blue eyes. "You're so beautiful," he murmured as he lightly ran his hands over her bare back, sending a tingling feeling through her body. She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder as he breathed in the smell of her hair and continued to caress her back. From across the dance floor, Rachel smiled when she saw them dancing together. "They make the cutest couple," she thought to herself as she watched them.   
The music picked up again and Chandler and Monica began to move faster, but they did not step back to get the space that had been between them previously. They stayed as close as they were during the slow song, and Monica just allowed Chandler to move her body along with his, marveling at what a good dancer he was. Awhile later the deejay stopped the music and announced that it was time for the crowning of the prom king and queen. Mon searched the crowd for Rachel, who she knew was probably hyperventilating at this point. It had been her dream since they were ten to be prom queen, and when she had gotten a nomination Monica had to argue with her to keep her from writing to the New York Times. She suddenly felt a death grip on her arm and turned to see Rachel, shaking and wide-eyed.   
"Oh, God... it's the moment of truth. What if I don't win? Oh, what if that slut Nancy Branson wins? I'll die... I'll just die." Monica tried not to laugh at Rachel's dramatic rambling and gripped her hand as the chaperone opened the envelope.   
"This year's prom king is... drumroll, please... Chip Matthews!" Rachel gasped as her date began to jump up and down and make his way to the platform, high-fiving his friends and hooting. Once he had climbed the stairs and been given the aluminum crown, the chaperone once again turned to the microphone. "And the winner of the title of prom queen is... Rachel Green!" Rachel began jumping up and down beside Monica and squealing. Monica tried to figure out if she was actually squealing words, but eventually gave up and just jumped up and down along with her best friend and hugged her. Rachel made her way to the front of the crowd, beaming and close to tears. After she had been crowned and had shared the traditional king-and-queen dance with Chip, she made her way back over to Monica and began blabbing again. "Can you believe it? My existence has finally been validated. I'M PROM QUEEN!" Mon laughed and hugged her best friend again.   
"Congratulations, Rach." Chandler said, smiling at her warmly.  
"Thanks, Chandler. You know, you're such a nice guy, I'm glad Monica finally got over dating such losers."  
"Thanks a lot, Rach," Mon muttered. Chandler grinned.  
"I'll take that as a compliment," he said, wrapping his arms around Monica's waist and kissing her neck.  
"Yeah. Well, I'm going to go find Nancy and brag. I'll catch up with you guys in a bit, ok?" With that, Rachel was off to flaunt her newly acquired crown.  
The deejay's voice once again took over the microphone. "Hey out there, you Lincoln High seniors! I hope you've enjoyed yourselves tonight, and I'm sorry to say that this is going to be the last song of the evening. Enjoy it! Peace!" Monica smiled as Chandler took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor again. He took her in his arms as the music began to play and gazed into her eyes as she looked back into his. They swayed back and forth to the music, forgetting that there were other people around and lost themselves in each other's eyes. When the music was over, Chandler kissed her softly and looked into her eyes again.  
"Thank you for coming tonight," she said.  
"Babe, I wouldn't have missed this for the world," he replied. She smiled and kissed him lightly.  
"C'mon, we should probably find Rach since we have joining hotel rooms." She eventually found her best friend in the center of a circle of new admirers, still beaming. She stifled a laugh, glad to see how happy her best friend was. "Rach?" she interrupted.  
"Oh, hey Mon. Okay, sorry guys, I gotta run... it's been nice talking to you." With that, she broke away from the group and ran up to Mon, giggling.   
"Chandler and I are gonna go up to the room now and chill... are you and Chip coming up?"   
"Yeah, we'll be up in a little while... I guess I should probably find him," she said absently, looking around.  
"Okay," Mon said, amused. "Well, here's your room key... if I don't see you tonight, meet me in the lobby tomorrow morning... we have to check out by noon."   
"Okay, yeah, noon... got it. Have fun you two!" Rachel said, raising her eyebrows suggestively. Monica blushed and dragged Chandler away. Once they were in the elevator, Chandler pulled Monica in close to him and whispered in her ear, "I think you would have made a beautiful prom queen."   
Mon smiled and joked, "Well of course I would have, but who am I to stand in the way of true happiness?" He smiled and kissed her gently until the doors opened at their floor. "What room are we in?" she asked.   
"Umm... room 228," Chandler said after reading the key, as if he hadn't been up there before they picked up Monica and Rachel. They found the door and Chandler handed the key card to Mon while he wrapped his arms around her waist and began kissing her neck. She giggled as she tried to open the door, succeeding on the second attempt. As she stepped inside the room, her jaw dropped as she looked around. There was a table by the window with two candles standing and white rose petals scattered across it. There was a vase of beautiful white roses on the dresser and there was a stereo beside them. Monica turned to Chandler, shocked, causing him to finally stop kissing her neck. "Wow... the maid must have gone all out," he joked.  
"Chandler, you..." Monica couldn't find any adequate words and simply stood in front of him, dumbfounded. "You did all this... for me?" He nodded slightly, gazing at her. "It's beautiful," she whispered, awestruck and with tears in her eyes.  
"Nowhere near as beautiful as you," he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and gazing into her eyes lovingly. She kissed him passionately and smiled when their lips parted.   
"I'm just going to take a shower to get the hairspray out of my hair, okay?" she asked. He grinned.  
"I'll wait," he whispered, kissing her once again. She disappeared into the bathroom and he kicked off his shoes and threw his jacket over the back of a chair along with his bowtie. He undid the top button of his shirt and sat on the bed, listening to his love humming in the shower and smiling to himself. When she emerged a few minutes later, he was pleasantly surprised. He had thought that she couldn't look more beautiful than she had earlier in the evening, but he was dumbstruck to find himself thinking that she looked even more beautiful wearing a plain white bathrobe with her wet, dark hair framing her face. He stood up with the sudden irresistible urge to kiss her. He went over to her and brushed her hair away from her face and did just that. He became lost in the intoxicating smell of her shampoo and her skin as he ran his fingers through her wet hair and felt the taste of her tongue against his. He was surprised a few minutes later to discover that she was unbuttoning his shirt. He kissed her once more and then separated his lips from hers, looking into her eyes, searching for the answer to his question. "Mon?" he asked, his voice unsteady. She peered back at him evenly, and her eyes seemed to hold nothing but certainty. She reached the last button on his shirt and slid it off his shoulders and onto the floor. As he gazed into her eyes, he wanted her more than ever before, but he knew he would never forgive himself if he pushed her in any way. "Mon?" he inquired again, his voice a little stronger this time. She looked up at him, her innocent blue eyes questioning him and her porcelain skin tempting him. "Are you sure about this? I mean, are you sure you're ready?" She nodded.  
"Positive," she whispered. He looked at her for another moment, as if to be sure, and kissed her deeply as he wrapped her in his arms, feeling her small, fragile body against his. She untucked his undershirt and he pulled it over his head and tossed it aside, and then ran her hands over his bare shoulders and chest. He began to kiss her once more and untied the knot that held her bathrobe closed. As it opened, he slid it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, leaving her standing there in nothing but a pair of black underwear. She unbuttoned his pants and slid them off, along with his boxers, as he laid her down on the bed, leaving her panties as the only thing left between them. He kissed her tenderly and momentarily stopped to look at her again. "I love you," he whispered.  
"I love you, too," she answered, and pulled him back down toward her.  
  



	2. Coming of Age, Part Two

Chandler awoke early the next morning with Monica still asleep in his arms. He breathed in the smell of her hair and kissed her lightly on the shoulder so that he wouldn't wake her up. "How did I get so lucky?" he wondered as he watched her sleeping peacefully. He laid back down and waited for her to wake up, content to stay right where he was. Twenty minutes later he felt Mon stir and turn to face him. As she opened her eyes, she grinned at him.   
"Hey, you."  
"Hey yourself." She scooted close to him and smiled as he gently brushed his fingertips up and down her arm. She stared at him, causing him to become curious after a few minutes. "Everything okay?"  
"Yep. Why?"  
"You were just... looking at me funny... just checking," he said grinning.  
"Yeah... I just wanted to say... thank you." Chandler frowned, confused.  
"Thank you?"  
"Yeah, for last night." He tried to hide the grin that crept over his face, but it was of no use.  
"Oh, believe me, you don't have to thank me... I didn't mind in the least! In fact, I might even do it again if you ever want me to..." Mon giggled and swatted him playfully.  
"No, I mean... well, basically... I just... thank you for making it so... special... and for being... y'know... gentle..." she trailed off, trying to see his reaction. He was smiling faintly and opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. After a few minutes of thought, he finally found what he thought were the right words.  
"Well, Mon, I kinda want to thank you, too."   
"Me? For what?"  
"Well, you know that I'd had sex before, but last night... well... uhhh... last night was the first time I ever... uhh... made love." He blushed and couldn't look her in the eye until she placed her fingers under his chin and lifted his face toward hers. He noted that there were tears in her eyes and she kissed him.   
"I love you so much," she whispered.  
"I love you too," he whispered back, feeling happier than he ever had in his life.  
  
"Oh my God, I'm so nervous... what if I trip and make a fool of myself in front of all these people? What if I fall down the stairs?"  
"Mon, sweetheart, calm down. You're going to be fine." Monica looked nervously back at Chandler and tried to regain her composure. It was finally here: her high school graduation. The day she had been awaiting for as long as she could remember. She was finally going to college, and she was going to be at the same college as the man she loved. Added to which, her best friend was going to be her roommate. Her life finally seemed to be in order. She felt Chandler's hand tighten around hers. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered. She grinned up at him and was just about to kiss him when Ross approached them.  
"Okay, okay, would you knock it off already?" They stepped back and Ross smiled. "Congratulations, sis. Knock 'em dead." Monica smiled and gave him a hug. Although he had initially been shocked and somewhat perturbed about Chandler and Monica's relationship, he had soon seen how good they were together and how happy they both seemed. His only warning had been his threat to Chandler: "Hurt her and I'll kill you, dude."  
A few moments later, all of the graduation candidates were ushered to their seats and the guests were told to sit as well.   
  
"Monica Elizabeth Geller," the announcer read. Mon took a deep breath and walked carefully toward the school principal who had her diploma extended toward her. As he shook her hand, she sneaked a glance toward the audience, where she immediately found her family and Chandler sitting not ten rows from the front. Ross was hooting and hollering and Mr. and Mrs. Geller were beaming and clapping. Chandler was clapping as well, and when he caught her eye, he grinned and winked. She smiled, took her diploma, and made her way back to her seat. After the ceremony was over, she scanned the sea of faces, looking for her family. She spotted Rachel and made a beeline for her. When Rach turned and saw her, she squealed and made a dash for her best friend. They reached each other and hugged, jumping up and down and laughing. They were finally out of the hellhole known as high school, and were about to be "college girls."  
  
Summer came and went in a whirlwind of plans. Chandler and Monica became even more inseparable than before, and everyone became accustomed to seeing them together -- it was far more strange to see them apart. Throughout the summer, Monica would sometimes tell her parents that she was spending the night at Rachel's and would instead stay at Chandler's when his mother was out of town, which was quite often. As the summer drew to a close, Monica grew excited about the prospect of starting her first semester at NYU. She looked forward to both the freedom and the fact that she would be with Chandler. Ross, afraid of having his suspicions of his best friend sleeping with his little sister confirmed, had applied for a roommate switch for the upcoming year, and Chandler had decided to pay the extra money for a "single." The day came when the dorms were opened, and there was a flurry of activity. Chandler rented a U-Haul so that he could take his, Ross's, Rachel's, and Monica's stuff to the campus in one haul. They spent an entire weekend moving things around and getting situated, and the following Monday the semester began.  
  
"Come in!" Monica looked up from her mid-term study guide and grinned when she saw Chandler standing in the doorway.   
"Hey, beautiful," he greeted, smiling back. "Whatcha doing?" Monica grimaced as she gestured toward the stack of papers that cluttered her desk.  
"Studying," she replied with a scowl. "Stupid biology mid-term." Chandler smiled.  
"Well, how about we go and grab a bite to eat in the dining hall and then have a little biological fun of our own?" Monica laughed and rolled her eyes.  
"Okay... I guess I could take a break for some food. If I don't know this stuff by now, I probably never will." Chandler nodded in agreement.  
"So we're on for dinner... and where are we on the action?" Monica stuck her tongue out as he laughed and helped her slip into her coat. As she buttoned it up, he kissed her lightly on the forehead. "You wanna stay at my place tonight?" Mon looked up to see if he was teasing her again, but his expression was nothing more than a small smile.   
She grinned teasingly and replied, "We'll see, Mr. Bing... depends on how good you are at dinner." He smiled back and held the door open for her.  
"With an implication like that, you can believe I'll be on my best behavior!" Monica laughed again and walked out of the dorm.  
  
After they had eaten, as they headed back across the campus toward Monica's dorm with their fingers intertwined, Chandler sighed and tightened his grip on her hand. Wondering what was on his mind, Monica broke the silence that had been between them since they left the dining hall. "Penny for your thoughts," she said, smiling slightly when he turned to face her. He grinned back as he noticed how pretty she looked with her eyes shining and her cheeks rosy from the cold.  
"I was just wondering," he replied as he turned away from her piercing eyes, "if it gets any better than this." Saying nothing, Monica waited to see if he would continue. "I mean, I finally have the perfect girlfriend, I'm away from my severely deranged family, and I'm actually happy. I just... I can't imagine anything better." Monica smiled warmly and brought his hand to her mouth and gently kissed it.   
"I can't imagine it either," she whispered. After a few moments, she added, "Well, that was pretty smooth, Bing... a good way to get me to stay over." Chandler grinned as he draped his arm across her shoulder.   
"Ah, my intention all along... good to know that it paid off." Monica laughed and walked into her dorm building to grab a change of clothes and a toothbrush and to leave a note for Rachel.  
  
"C'mon, Monica, answer the phone." Chandler tapped his foot impatiently as he listened to the phone ring on the other end. He had just finished his last final and he and Monica were going to drive home together, since she had finished the day before. He sighed as the answering machine picked up: "Hi, you've reached Monica and Rachel's. We're probably in, but avoiding a call from someone we don't want to talk to. Leave a message, and if we don't call you back, it's you." After he had waited for the beep, he spoke: "Mon, it's me. I'm on my way over, I guess you're in the shower or something. Anyway, I'll see you in a few." As he hung up the phone, he wondered for the thousandth time what was going on with Monica. For the past month she had been distant and irritable and had seemed extremely stressed out -- nothing like her normal self. Chalking it up to final-exam stress, Chandler had tried to ignore it, but he was becoming increasingly concerned. What if she had met someone else? What if she didn't want to be with him anymore? He couldn't imagine that being the case, but he had managed to make himself really paranoid over the past few weeks. He grabbed his keycard and left his room, moving his boxes away from the door so that he could open it. As he made his way across campus, he was careful not to rush in case she WAS in the shower. His mind wandered yet again, and he could feel himself getting worked up once more. The last time she had stayed overnight in his room, she had been really emotional but wouldn't tell him why. They hadn't even gotten around to making love, and instead he had just held her close throughout the night while she slept in his arms. Being that he hadn't seen her for a day and a half, he hoped that the end of the term had brought with it the end of Monica's tension. As he approached Mon's building, he saw Rachel ahead of him. "Rach?" he called after her, and broke into a jog when she turned.  
"Oh, hey Chandler," she replied. "Looking for Mon?" She smiled thankfully as he grabbed a few of the books she was struggling with.  
"Yeah, we're driving home this afternoon. Just finished my last final."  
"Oh, man, I'm jealous. I have to stick around for another two days," she replied, groaning.  
"Yeah, well, think of it this way," he replied. "After those two days, you'll never have to be a freshman again." Rachel smiled in return.  
"What was the final in?"  
"Physics," he replied. "I gotta say, if I never hear the terms 'Law of Gravitation' again, I won't mind." Rachel smiled as she opened the door to their building. After a few moments, he turned to her with a serious expression. "Rach, have you noticed anything strange about Monica lately? I mean, has she been acting different around you or anything?" After a momentary pause, Rachel stopped.  
"Actually, yeah, now that you mention it. We've barely had time to really sit and talk for weeks now, what with finals and everything. She's seemed kind of upset, now that I think about it." She began walking again. "Is everything okay with you guys?"  
"Yeah, we're great. Well, at least, I think we're great. I mean, I still love her and we're still fine... I was just worried about her, that's all."  
"Aw, Chandler, I wouldn't worry about it. It's probably just stress, y'know? Freshman year is always a pain in the ass." Chandler nodded.  
"Yeah, I seem to remember that being true." Rach smiled.  
"Don't worry. I'm sure once you guys get out of here, things will go back to normal." Chandler tried to smile, hoping that she was right. As they reached the door, Chandler took the rest of Rachel's books as she fished through her bag for her keycard. She knocked on the door before she opened it in case Monica wasn't dressed. As she opened the door, a startling sight met their eyes: whereas Rachel's side was cluttered with her usual mess, Monica's side was bare. All of her boxes of belongings were gone, leaving only the furniture that belonged to the school.  
"What the hell?" Chandler's voice trailed off as he scanned the room, confused. "Did she leave already or something?"  
"I have no clue," Rachel replied, frowning. "I haven't seen her all day... maybe she got Ross to help her carry her stuff to the van or something." Chandler nodded, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that had settled over him.   
"Yeah, you're probably right. I guess I'll head over to Ross's building to find her. Thanks, Rach." He handed her books back and left the dorm. He jogged away from Monica's dorm building, wondering what in the world was going on.  
  
"Dude, what's wrong?" Chandler asked, concerned when he saw Ross's face on the other side of the door. Ross grabbed him by the sleeve of his jacket and dragged him into his room.  
"What the hell happened with you two?" he demanded. Chandler stared at him blankly, trying to understand what he was talking about. "What did you do to her?" Sensing something had happened with Monica, he was instantly struck with fear.  
"Ross, what the hell are you talking about? What's going on?" Ross's eyes narrowed as he snatched a piece of paper off of his desk and thrust it at his former roommate.   
"What happened?" he repeated as Chandler began to read the note.  
  
"Ross,  
I am sorry that this is coming in a note, but I knew that if I tried to explain this to your face, I would fail miserably. I'm leaving NYU -- and New York, for that matter, but I wanted to let you know that I'm going to be fine. And before you fly off the handle, don't go blaming Chandler for my leaving. There are just some things that I have to figure out at the moment. You're the greatest brother in the world, and I'm going to miss you like crazy. But you have to understand that ever since we were kids, I've lived in your shadow. Perhaps going to the same college was a mistake, but either way the time has come for me to figure out who I am. Don't think that this is your fault, because it's not... this is about me. I need to find out who I am and where I'm going, and I know that I can't do that in New York. Tell Mom and Dad that I'm fine... lie if you have to, just don't let them freak out. Tell Chandler that I'm sorry and that I love him, and tell him to check his mailbox before he leaves to go home if you see him. Take it easy, bro... good luck with Carol.  
Love,  
Mon"  
  
Chandler read the note over again, not believing what he was seeing. There was no way that she had just left... this had to be some sort of prank someone was playing. She wouldn't just leave him like that, surely? He looked up and into Ross's face, which was twisted with a look of combined anger, worry, and confusion. Not knowing what to say and certain that his own face was just as distorted, he simply stared back. After a few moments, he left the dorm, running toward the mail center to check his mailbox. When he reached the mail room, he quickly spun the combination on his door and opened the latch to see a single envelope inside. Grabbing it hastily, he tore it open and began to read:  
  
"Chandler,  
If you're reading this, knowing how rarely you check your mailbox, I'm guessing that you've seen Ross. I know that you probably don't understand any of this, and I'm sorry that I can't explain it. I just have to go... I'm going to find a different school and start a new path. Please don't take this to mean that I don't love you, because I do... I love you with all my heart, and I always will. I'm sorry if this seems selfish and senseless, but I have to do this. Please try to understand, and not to hate me. Thank you for loving me and for teaching me so much about life and love. You will be in my heart always... perhaps someday we will meet again.  
All my love, now and always,  
Monica"  
  
Dumbfounded, he sank to the floor, his eyes stinging with tears. The feelings of disbelief had given way to a severe pain, a pain that erupted in anger as he balled up the paper and threw it across the room, then buried his face in his hands.  
  



	3. Coming of Age, Part Three

***SIXTEEN YEARS LATER***  
"Jesus, Joey, would you PLEASE stop trying to flush sandwich wrappers down the toilet? For the thousandth time, IT WON'T WORK!"   
"Well, what else am I supposed to do when I'm eating in the shower?" Joey replied defensively. Chandler sighed in resignation and ran his hands through his dark hair.   
"Wow, that IS a tough one," he muttered sarcastically as he sank into his recliner. "So what are your plans tonight?"  
"Got a date," he replied happily. "Hot chick... can't remember her name though." He shrugged. "It'll come to me." Chandler nodded absently, trying to remember last time he'd been on a date. Three months ago, he decided. Blind date, total disaster. He looked up as the door opened, and Rachel walked in.   
"Hey, guys, whatcha doing?"   
"Marveling at the wonder that is Joey," Chandler replied cynically. As Joey beamed proudly, Rachel laughed.   
"Well, whatcha doing for the rest of the night?"  
"I don't know about you two, but this marvel has a hot date," Joey stated, gloating.  
"A hot date with..." Chandler prompted mockingly.  
"Gina," he replied without missing a beat. His face lit up. "Gina! Ah-ha! Told ya I'd remember! Later!" With that, he left the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Rachel turned to Chandler.  
"And what about you... hot date tonight?"   
"The fact that you even ask that question proves just how little you know me," Chandler remarked dryly. Rachel looked at him, frowning slightly. She never understood why he didn't have dates... he was cute, smart, and funny, and she knew tons of girls who wouldn't mind dating him. I guess he'd have to actually care for it to work, she thought to herself. She and Chandler had grown close after Monica's sudden disappearance, and although they were practically best friends, he would never let her push him into dating. It had taken a year and a half after Monica left to even get him to go out on a date. She shook her head, jolting back to reality.  
"Well, how does pizza sound then?"   
"Sounds good," he agreed amiably, getting up out of the recliner and grabbing his jacket. "Are Ross and Phoebe coming as well?"  
"Nah... Ross had a convention at the museum and Phoebe's out with that guy again... you know, the one that talks to trees."  
"Ah, yes," Chandler replied. "Who knew that there was actually someone else like Phoebe on this earth?" They'd met Phoebe when Rachel had put out an ad for a roommate, much like the way in which Chandler and Joey had met. The two had expanded on the close-knit trio of Chandler, Rachel, and Ross, which had resulted from Monica's departure, and the five had grown close over the years. Rachel laughed, and Chandler helped her into her coat as they left for the pizza place.  
  
"Coming," Chandler called as he got out of his recliner to answer the door. He wondered who it could be, given that no one who ever came to see him actually knocked. He opened the door to reveal a young girl on the other side who stood with her back to him. She spun around and looked at him nervously. Immediately worried that Joey had done something stupid, Chandler broke the short silence. "Are you here for Joey?" The girl's brow furrowed in momentary confusion as she shook her head. Before she could speak, he continued. "Girl Scout Cookies?"  
"I'm sixteen," she remarked matter-of-factly.   
"Sorry," Chandler replied, blushing.   
"No problem," she answered quietly. "I'm small for my age." A moment of awkward silence followed, eventually to be broken by Chandler.  
"So... what can I do for you?" The girl seemed to snap back to reality as she cleared her throat nervously.  
"I, um... I'm looking for Chandler Bing."   
"Well, look no further," Chandler replied, curious as to who the girl was and what she wanted with him. Her nervousness seemed to fade momentarily and then return as she asked the next question uneasily.   
"Great, is he home?"  
"You're looking at him." The girl froze, and Chandler's slight smile faded as she stared at him. "Are, uh... are you okay?" She nodded and licked her lips, trying to find her voice. Once she had, however, she realized that she didn't have the slightest clue what to say. Noticing how tense she was, Chandler stepped back and opened the door wider. "Would you like to come in?" She simply nodded again and entered the apartment nervously. Once inside, the awkwardness reappeared instantly as they stared at each other uneasily, the girl trying to formulate a sentence and Chandler wondering who she was and what she wanted. She took a deep breath and paused a moment before she spoke.  
"I'm Samantha," she said, offering her hand. "Sam."   
"Chandler," he replied, accepting the handshake. "But you obviously know that already." She smiled uneasily as she cleared her throat.   
"Okay... um... okay." She stammered as she tried to avoid his piercing eyes that were filled with confusion. "You don't know me," she eventually managed. "But I need your help." Chandler nodded, encouraging her to continue. "You don't know ME," she repeated, "but you knew my mother. Monica." Chandler froze at the mention of her name and stared at the girl before him. Sam paused, searching his face for an indication that he remembered the name, and when she was assured that he did, she continued. "Monica Geller." Chandler nodded weakly, leaning against the countertop behind him. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.  
"You're Monica's daughter?" he whispered, trying to grasp what he had just been told. The girl nodded, and as she looked at him with an anxious look on her face, he could see the resemblance. She had Monica's crystal-clear blue eyes and her dark hair framed her face. And she was right, she was small for her age... just like Mon had been.  
"Yeah," she answered, wondering how she was going to get to the point of her visit. "I'm looking for my father," she added simply, deciding that beating around the bush wouldn't do either of them any good. His eyes clouded as he straightened up, and Sam thought she could see a defensive look cross his face. "Well, I don't know who your father is," he replied coarsely. "I haven't seen her since she was nineteen."  
"I know who my father is," she interrupted. "It's on my birth certificate. His name is Chandler Bing. You," she added for emphasis. He froze and stared at her, stunned and blank.  
"No," he corrected her. "I haven't seen your mother since she was nineteen," he repeated. The girl looked away.   
"Yeah, well, I was born when she was nineteen," she whispered. "March 2, 1990." She searched his face for some sign of understanding, and became increasingly nervous when he maintained the dazed look that had crossed his face when she had first told him. Not knowing what else to say, she stood motionless waiting for him to speak. He shook his head, trying to clear the fuzz that had taken over. The word "father" swam in his hazy mind as he looked back at the girl standing before him. Taking the eye contact as a positive sign, she continued. "Before you get really freaked out, I want to tell you that I'm not here looking for a long-lost father to take me in his arms and hug me or anything," she said quietly. "I just need you to do something really simple for me, and then I'll be gone and you won't have to see me again. I just need you to sign something." Chandler swallowed, trying to get his voice to work.  
"Sit," he managed in a whisper, indicating toward the recliners. Sam nervously took a seat in one as he sat in the one next to her. Wringing his hands, he looked at her intently. She took a deep breath and resumed speaking.  
"My mom... Monica... she was in an accident." She saw a flicker in his eyes and she wondered what he was thinking.  
"Accident?" he repeated, the first word that he had managed to raise above a dry whisper. Sam nodded.  
"Two weeks ago," she replied quietly, her eyes filling with tears. She averted her gaze so that he wouldn't see them. "Drunk driver ran a red light and smashed into her car. She's in a coma." Chandler's breath caught as he tried to let some of what he was being told sink in. Trying to get all of it out, Sam continued. "She, uh... well, we don't have any family, and being that we never saw this coming, there was never any indication made of what should happen to me in the event of her death." Her voice cracked on the last word and Chandler visibly flinched. She cleared her throat and went on. "If she... doesn't wake up, they're going to put me in a state home." Her voice had once again gone back to barely above a whisper and she was watching her hands as she spoke. "The only way I can avoid that is if I get my father to sign the papers saying that they can't do that. And, according to my birth certificate... that's you." She raised her eyes to look at him, praying that he wouldn't turn her down. In an attempt to reassure him, she added, "You'll never have to see me again. You won't be responsible for me or anything... I'll go back and be on my own. You won't have to support me or anything like that... it just makes me independent, saying that even though I'm a minor, I will be treated as legally self-sufficient..." She was cut off by Chandler motioning for her to stop. She quieted and gazed at him intently. After a few moments, just when Sam thought the silence was going to break her, he spoke.  
"Where is she?"   
"Hospital," Sam replied, confused.  
"No, I mean..." he paused. "Where is she? Where in the country?"  
"North Carolina," she answered. He nodded and sat in silence for a few moments. He then got up and headed back toward one of the bedrooms. As he got to the door, he turned to face her.   
"I can't sign that," he told her quietly. Her face fell, but before she could speak, he continued. "I'm not going to let you go out and live on your own." She looked at him, puzzled. "Just let me pack," he said quietly, "and we'll get on the next plane to North Carolina." With that, he turned and went into his bedroom.  
  
The uncomfortable silence was still present as they sat on the plane, Sam looking absently out the window and Chandler flipping nervously through a magazine. "Drink, sir?" Chandler jumped as the flight attendant hovered over him, her plastic smile fixed in place and her stale perfume overpowering him. He nodded.  
"Just some mineral water, please."  
"And for you, young lady?"  
"Same, please," she answered in a small voice. The woman nodded efficiently and placed their drinks on their trays along with two packages of peanuts.   
"If there's anything I can get y'all, be sure and let me know," she said cheerfully as she continued up the aisle.   
"Thanks," Chandler replied, but she was gone. He turned to Sam. "Want my peanuts?"   
"No, thanks... I was actually going to ask you the same thing." She smiled slightly, and Chandler reciprocated, glad that they had at least managed to momentarily break the silence. Hoping to avoid slipping back into it, he tried to think of something else to say, but he was interrupted when Sam beat him to the punch.  
"Why are you doing this?" she asked uneasily.  
"Doing what?" he inquired, wondering what she meant.  
"Coming to see my mom. Now, sixteen years later... I mean, you could have just signed a paper and been done with it... what are you going to do?" Chandler was silent for a moment. The truth was, he wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do. The only thing he knew for certain was that he had to see Monica again. Even if, God forbid, she didn't get to see him.  
"Look, Sam, I --" He was interrupted by the captain's voice over the intercom.   
"Ladies and gentlemen, we ask that you please fasten your seatbelts as we begin our descent to Charlotte Douglas Airport and we thank you for flying USAir." Chandler sighed and complied, snapping his belt together. Sam's eyes once again drifted toward the view as she waited to watch for the runway. As he watched her, Chandler tried to figure out what he was going to tell her... and what he was going to say to Monica, given the chance. He wondered what she had been doing for the past sixteen years, apart from raising a child. He speculated on whether or not that was the real reason she'd left -- because she was pregnant. He'd thought he was over her and had moved on... after all, that was well over a decade ago. But seeing Sam, who so closely resembled her mother, and letting himself think about her again, he realized that an old quote he had heard was painfully true: "Time does not heal, it makes a half-stitched scar that can be broken and again you feel grief as total as in its first hour." Chandler felt as though all of his old emotions had come back in one forceful motion, knocking his feet out from under him and sending him into a spin. The heartache he had lived with for so long after the one and only woman he'd ever loved had disappeared. The anger he had felt toward her for breaking his heart and leaving him all alone. The guilt to which he had become accustomed as he wondered if it was his fault that Monica had deserted not only him but her friends and family as well. The hint of anticipation and trepidation that accompanied the knowledge that he was going to get to see her again, and, ultimately, the relief in finally knowing what had happened to her. He only hoped that he'd be given the chance to talk to her... that she wouldn't be taken from him again when he'd only just found her.  
  
It was well past ten o'clock when they got to Monica and Sam's small apartment. As she fiddled with the lock, Chandler shifted his weight nervously as he stood behind her, wondering whether he should be staying in Monica's home. He didn't have much time to wonder, though, as Sam flung the door open and threw her bag into the apartment. She flicked a light switch as Chandler entered behind her and walked silently into the den, turning on another lamp and bending to check the answering machine. Chandler took the opportunity to look around him and take in as much as he could. The apartment was impeccably neat and yet it still looked comfortably lived-in. There was a wall with a window space that went through to the kitchen, and there was a small hallway that he assumed led to the bedrooms. He turned as a voice filled the room when Sam pushed the button on the machine. "Sam, it's Nicole. I just got your message... listen, I don't know if you've already left for New York or not, and I hope you get this before you go. I'm not sure that it's such a good idea... please call me when you get this, ok? Are you sure you don't want to stay with us for awhile? My mom's worried about you living alone. Okay, well anyway, call me, ok? I'll talk to you later, girl. Love ya." As the machine beeped, Chandler turned toward Sam.  
"My best friend," she explained. He nodded. "You hungry?" He shrugged.  
"If you want, we can get some take-out or something... my treat. What kind of restaurants do you have around here?"  
"There's a Chinese delivery place just down the street," she replied. "They do a really good Szechuan dish." He nodded again.   
"Sounds good to me."  
  
Half an hour later, they were seated at the kitchen table eating the food that had arrived a short while before. "So... what do you do?" Sam asked, trying to ease the tension that had settled in again.  
"Data processor," he replied. "Really boring... I'd suggest avoiding that if you can." She shrugged.  
"I'm going to be a photographer," she replied. "I want to be a freelancer... take pictures of whatever I find. There's just... something captivating about how you can find something through a lens..." she drifted off and blushed when she realized that he was staring at her. "Sorry," she mumbled, taking another mouthful of her dinner.  
"No, please, don't be embarrassed," he reassured her. "You were just like your mother then." He mentally scolded himself. "Well, I mean, like how I remember her." He groaned and closed his eyes. After a moment of silence, Sam looked at him gravely.  
"What was she like?" Chandler looked at her questioningly.  
"Your mother? You mean when I knew her?" Sam nodded.  
"When she was younger. What was she like... before me?"  
Chandler hesitated, not knowing what she already knew or didn't know about her mother. "Well, what do you know about her past?"   
Sam looked at him evenly. "Okay," she said simply. "How about this: I tell you everything that you want to know, and then you do the same for me? I want to know about her past because she never talks about it. And you probably want to know about her life now, right?"  
Chandler, surprised at her candor, nodded. "I also want to know about you," he said gently. She looked at him, perplexed.   
"Me? Why?"   
"Because..." He paused. "I'm your father." He noted how the world caught in his throat and the way in which she tensed when he said it. He waited for her reaction, wondering how she would respond. She was silent. "Do you know anything about me?" he asked, wondering what Monica had told her, if anything. Sam shook her head slowly, not looking at him.  
"Like I said, she'd never really talk about it. I didn't even know your name until I found my birth certificate. I remember asking her once when I was ten why I didn't have a father and it made her cry. I always hated seeing her upset, so I never brought it up again." She looked at him, almost demanding an explanation with her eyes. "So?"  
Chandler sighed and put down his fork. He wondered if he should fill in the gaps, but when he looked up and into Sam's silently pleading eyes, he realized that there was no way he could deny her requests for information. He took a deep breath and began.  
"Well, I first met your mother... Monica... in 1987. Thanksgiving. My parents weren't around, so Ross invited me to dinner."  
"Is this the same Ross that was my mom's brother?" Sam interrupted. Chandler noted the fact that she had said "was" instead of "is," and wondered momentarily what Ross would say when he found out what had happened with Monica.  
"Yeah," he confirmed with a nod. "Your uncle. So anyway, I didn't see her again until the following year. Ross was spending a semester in Egypt, and I decided to take some of his stuff from the dorm back to his parents' house. Your grandparents," he added as an afterthought. She nodded eagerly, waiting for him to continue. "Mon was still in high school... it was her senior year. I asked her out, and we started dating. By her prom, we were pretty serious and she told me that night that she was going to go to NYU in the fall, which is where Ross and I were going to school." He smiled as he remembered how happy he'd been to hear that she would be with him. "Well, we were together for her entire freshman year, my junior year, and we were practically inseparable. Then, when the semester ended, she disappeared and I never heard anything from or about her again."  
"Until now," Sam replied in a small voice.  
"Yeah," Chandler said softly. "'Till now." Sam sat quietly, letting it all sink in. There was so much more that she wanted to know, but she knew that what she'd been told already was at least a start and she didn't want to press too hard. After a few moments of silence, Chandler spoke again. "So... what's she like now?" Sam was quiet for a moment, thinking about what to say.  
"Well, she's a chef," she began. Chandler smiled, remembering how he'd told her that she should be one at that Thanksgiving so long ago. "She's a wonderful mother, my best friend... a compulsive cleaner and a stickler for homework." She paused, not knowing where else to go. She didn't want to say anything that she thought her mother wouldn't want her to reveal, and being that she had barely known Chandler for more than 48 hours, she was reluctant to tell him too many personal details. Chandler seemed to recognize this, and so he tried a new approach.   
"What about you?" Sam hesitated before replying.  
"Well, there's not much to tell about me. I'm sixteen, I like photography, art, music, and poetry. I'm a junior in high school, which I hate, but I can't wait to go to college. Umm..." she racked her brain, trying to think of something else to tell him. Before she could come up with anything, he finished for her.  
"You're beautiful," he said quietly. "Just like your mother was." Sam looked up at him, surprised, and then looked away as her eyes filled with tears.   
"She still is," she replied softly. Hearing her voice shake, Chandler reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, coaxing her to look at him. As she did, he felt his heart wrench as he saw her blue eyes glisten with tears and a look that seemed to be a combination of fear and hope. He could see Monica in her face, and he felt as though someone were twisting his heart. Sam looked embarrassed and stood up. "Well, you can sleep in my room and I'll sleep in Mom's," she said quickly.  
"No, don't give up your room, I can sleep on the couch, it's fine," he argued.  
"Trust me... that couch is NOT comfortable. It's fine, really... I'm sorry that my bed's only a single, though." She turned and grabbed his duffel that he had placed by the door and headed toward the bedrooms. "This way." He hurriedly dumped his plate in the sink and followed her toward one of the rooms.   
  
Sam smiled cautiously as he entered the kitchen the next morning. "Morning," she greeted with a small smile. He smiled back.  
"Hey."  
"Sleep well?"  
"Yeah... thanks for letting me use your room."  
"Eh, don't mention it... I like my mom's room anyway... double bed." She smiled and indicated toward the counter in front of her. "Want some coffee?"  
"Sure," Chandler said, taking a seat at the table. "You drink coffee?"   
"Yeah," she replied with a small laugh. "It's one of the few legal stimulants for a minor." He grinned, and realized, pleased, that although it was short, it was the first time he'd heard her laugh. She turned to smile at him and after a few minutes her brow furrowed and she turned back to the counter. "Could this thing BE any slower?" Chandler's eyes flickered when he heard it. She spoke the same way he did. The way that made Ross and Joey poke fun at him. He almost smiled again, but his train of thought was interrupted by the sound of her voice. Her back still turned to him, she spoke in a low voice. "You know, before I met you, I almost hated you."  
Chandler's eyes snapped open and he tensed. Not knowing what to say, he remained silent. "I realize that I didn't even know you, but still... My mom never told me who you were or what you were like. She also never told me about the circumstances of your relationship, so I guess I just always assumed that she got pregnant and her boyfriend ditched her. I didn't realize that she was the one who left." She turned to face him again, waiting for some response. She wasn't sure what she wanted to hear, but she at least wanted to hear something. Chandler stood up and moved so that he was in front of her.   
"Look, I can understand that. My father ran out on me and my mom, and I still haven't forgiven him for it. I hated him for wrecking my family, for being the reason that I had a dysfunctional childhood. And I'm sorry that you've had to live without a father. But..." he paused momentarily, realizing that although he had to continue, he was afraid of doing so. He took a deep breath and continued. "But you don't have to keep living without one." He searched her face for a reaction and was relieved when she smiled. She dropped her gaze to the floor and fussed with the dishcloth that she was holding.   
"Are you sure you want a daughter, though?" she asked him, terrified that he'd say no. "I mean, are you sure you want one who's almost grown already?"  
He looked at her sadly. "Just because I missed out on your childhood, doesn't mean that I can't still be your dad," he said softly. "I know that I missed out on a lot, but I don't want to miss out on any more." He stood nervously before her, waiting for a response. Suddenly, he felt her throw her arms around his neck and bury her face in his chest. He timidly held on to her, feeling a wave of emotions so powerful that it wasn't until a few moments later that he realized he was crying, overcome by the emotion that accompanied the first hug between father and daughter.  
"Okay... Dad." She mumbled. He felt himself grinning through his tears when he heard the word and silently hugged her tighter.  
  



	4. Coming of Age, Part Four

"Hello?" Sam answered breathlessly on the third ring. "Oh, hey Nic. What's up?" Chandler walked into the room silently, wondering who was on the phone. "Nicole," Sam mouthed silently, and he nodded in response. "Yeah, we got back last night... I was going to call you, but it was pretty late." Pause. "We. My dad and I." Chandler averted his gaze and tried to hide the small smile that crept over his face at the word "Dad." The past few days had been such a blur, and he couldn't seem to remember having a coherent thought since Sam had first shown up. His mind was awhirl with thoughts and his heart awhirl with emotions. He constantly caught himself staring at her, unable to believe she was actually his daughter. She was so smart, and so beautiful... the idea of her being his child was almost incomprehensible. His thoughts were interrupted as Sam spoke again. "Yeah, well, since it's a weekend, visitors' hours aren't until after midday, so we're going to go then." Chandler's eyes widened and he stiffened. It was obvious that she was talking about visiting Monica. He didn't know what to expect, and that alone terrified him almost as much as the idea of seeing her again. As she hung up the phone, Chandler realized that the gang was probably wondering where he was. He had only left them a note saying that he'd had to leave because something had come up, and he knew that by now they were probably pretty concerned.   
"Is it okay if I use your phone?" he asked. "I just want to call my roommate and let him and my friends know where I am."   
"Sure," Sam said with a wave. "Go for it." He nodded his appreciation, picked up the phone and dialed the number to his apartment. Joey answered on the first ring, a sure sign that he had been waiting for a call. It was rare that he answered the phone at all, let alone so quickly.  
"Hey, Joe," Chandler greeted. "It's me."  
"Dude, where the hell have you been? We've all been worried sick... Rachel's been driving us nuts, she's so paranoid."  
"Sorry, man, something came up..." His voice trailed off as he heard Rachel's high-pitched voice in the background, and suddenly she was on the phone, probably having snatched it out of Joey's grasp.  
"Chandler?! Oh, thank God you're okay. I was so worried! Where the hell are you? Why didn't you call me?"  
"Rach, calm down, I'm fine. I'm in North Carolina."   
"North Carolina? What on earth are you doing in North Carolina?"  
"Um..." Chandler wondered if he should tell her what was going on, but he realized resignedly that he simply didn't have the energy to deal with telling any lies. He took a deep breath. "Are you sitting down?" He heard her sigh in frustration.  
"Y'know, Chandler, I really hate it when you begin like that..."  
"I found Monica," he interrupted. There was a momentary pause.  
"WHAT?!?!" she shrieked, practically deafening him.  
"Well, I didn't exactly find her. She found me. In a way." When he got no response, he took it as a sign that she was confused, so he continued. "Her daughter showed up at my apartment the other morning. Well, our daughter. The one I never knew about. She came to find me because Monica's in the hospital as a result of a car accident. I haven't seen her yet -- we're going to visit her later today, but I thought I should at least call you and let you know where I was." Having nothing more to say, he stopped. "Rach?" he asked after a moment of silence.  
"Wha- uh- hum- fa-" Suddenly Joey was back on the phone.  
"Man, what did you tell her? I don't think I've ever seen Rachel at a loss for words."   
"Just make sure she's okay, all right, Joe? I'll call you guys again later. Rachel will fill you in. I have to go now, though, so I'll talk to you later. Say hey to Ross and Phoebe for me, okay?" He hung up before Joey could bombard him with questions and turned to see Sam watching him intently.  
"Is Rachel your girlfriend?" she asked quietly. She knew that he was perfectly allowed to have a girlfriend, and even a wife, but the idea of him leaving and going back to another family when she'd only just found him seemed so unfair, and it was almost too depressing a thought to bear. He smiled slightly, reassuringly.   
"No, Rachel's not my girlfriend. She's my best friend." He hesitated for a moment. "Actually, she was your mom's best friend in high school. They were roommates in college... that's how I met her." Sam smiled at that... another detail about her mother's past. She wondered if she'd ever get to meet these people who had been such a huge part of her mom's life so many years ago. As she looked at Chandler, she knew that although it would be nice to meet them, she would be perfectly content to just have him in her life. The father that she had wanted for so long. She had been so afraid to go to New York to look for him, terrified that he would be some low-life jerk who would deny ever having known her mother, and that she's be put into foster care, or worse. She'd hardly dared hope that the Chandler Bing on her birth certificate would agree to sign the papers, let alone want to get to know her. She smiled again, and headed for her room to get dressed to go to the hospital.  
  
"She's on the third floor," Sam told him as she punched the elevator button. He simply nodded, nervous and speechless. His knuckles were white as he gripped onto the flowers he'd brought for Monica's room. As the elevator reached the third floor, Sam walked through the doors and turned right. Chandler followed slowly behind her, feeling as though his shoes were filled with lead. She made her way down the hallway efficiently, as she'd practically been living there for the past two weeks and knew many of the on-call nurses already. Chandler lagged behind, trying to fight the urge to turn and run. Run anywhere, just as long as it was in the opposite direction. After all, what was he supposed to do or say when confronted with the woman who he had loved so much and who had broken his heart all those years ago? The mother of his recently discovered daughter who had left him without any explanation? He suddenly felt suffocated and a panic took over, urging him to turn and run, but he couldn't. It was as if his legs had taken control and he was simply in autopilot, following Sam toward the end of the hallway. She paused outside one of the doors and turned to face him, waiting for him to catch up. Before she could enter the room, she heard a voice from behind her.   
"Well, hello, Miss Geller." She turned to see the middle-aged doctor who she had come to know quite well over the course of Monica's hospital stay, smiling and holding a clipboard.  
"Hey, Dr. Mitchell," she replied. "How is everything?"  
"Well, things seem to be going fine. Not much change since you left, but that can, of course, be a good thing." He smiled reassuringly and then noticed Chandler standing anxiously to the side.  
"Dr. Mitchell, this is my dad," Sam introduced. "Chandler Bing." Chandler silently accepted the handshake that he offered and nodded, not trusting his voice.  
"Nice to meet you," the doctor greeted. "Well, Miss Geller, I'm about to go on my rounds, but I'll stop in and check up on you afterwards, okay?"  
"Sure. Thanks," Sam replied as he walked away. She turned to face Chandler. "Ready?" He shook his head. She took a hold of his arm and gently coaxed him into the room as she pushed open the door. Not quite ready to see anything horrific, Chandler looked at his shoes as Sam left his side and went toward Monica's bedside. As he stared at the floor, he could hear Sam pull up a chair next to her mother and greet her quietly. After a few moments, Sam got up and walked toward him. "She won't bite you," she teased gently. When he didn't respond, she sighed. "I'm going to get some coffee from the cafeteria. I'll be back in a little while."  
"I'll come," he said quickly. She smiled sympathetically and squeezed his arm. He nodded, knowing what she was telling him, and watched her leave. He turned to look at last into Monica's face, the face he had thought about and missed for sixteen years, and almost gasped as he did so. Upon seeing her again, he was transported back in time, remembering what it felt like to caress her cheek and to look into her eyes. He wished that her eyes were open so that he could see the deep blue that had comforted him so, but at the same time he was glad that he didn't have to explain anything yet. Just the sight of her had brought with it a flood of emotions that almost overwhelmed him. He slowly walked over to her bedside, placing the flowers gently on the stand next to her bed. He sat in the chair and gazed at her, remembering all the time he'd spent gazing at her so many years ago. He could see the faint scars that had already almost healed and noticed the casts on her arm and leg. The respirator that she was on was the only sound in the room until he eventually spoke.  
"Oh, Monica," he whispered when he was finally able to. He timidly reached out and brushed her cheek with his fingertips, as if to reassure himself that she was actually there, in front of him. Once he was assured, he leaned back in the chair and let himself be transported back.  
  
"You okay?" Sam asked when they got home. Chandler hadn't said a word since they left the hospital, and she was wondering what was on his mind. He simply nodded, staring out the apartment window. "Want some coffee?" He shook his head and, after a few moments, turned to face her.   
"What am I going to say to her?" he asked, having obviously been worrying about it for some time. Sam sighed and sat down on the couch.   
"Look, from what I can gather about your past, it's not you who owes an explanation. It's her. You haven't done anything wrong, and there's nothing that needs explaining, right?"  
"Yeah," he said, not sounding at all convinced. "But what right do I have to just come barging into her life?" Sam stood up and answered firmly.  
"You're my father. You have EVERY right to be in MY life, and therefore you have every right to be a part of hers. You're my parents, and regardless of what happened between you years ago, you're going to have to deal with each other now, because I'm not letting either one of you leave my life now." Chandler sighed and, seeming somewhat reassured, joined her on the couch.  
"I'm just nervous," he said quietly. "I just..." his voice trailed off as he tried to think of what he wanted to say. "I loved her so much," he said, his voice shaking. "And when I was looking at her today, even without her looking back at me, I felt it all again. I don't know how I can be so angry at her and love her so much at the same time. Plus, how much sense does it make to be in love with someone who you haven't seen for a decade and a half?" He sighed and shook his head, trying to clear it of the jumble of thoughts that dominated him. Sam squeezed his hand reassuringly and didn't answer, letting the silence between them linger.  
  
Chandler was surprised the next morning to awaken early to find Sam sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and looking exhausted. "Morning," he said, concerned. "You okay?"  
"The hospital called at two o'clock this morning," she said warily. Chandler felt his heart skip as he awaited what he feared to be terrible news. "She woke up, so I went down to see her." She paused and took a sip of her coffee, then continued. "I didn't want to wake you up, so I just went to visit her for a little while. She was pretty tired and they said that she needed to rest and they had to do some work, but that we could go back during visitors' hours." She looked up at him and awaited a response. He sank down into the chair next to her, a mix of relief, trepidation, and anticipation.  
"How was she?" he asked calmly.  
"Good," Sam replied. "The doctors think she's going to make a full recovery... waking up was the hard part, or so I was told." He could see in her face that she was trying to hide the grin that threatened to creep out, so he forced a smile to reassure her. Her face broke into one, and she bounced up from the table, suddenly lively. "I'm going to call Nic," she said as she dashed into the other room. Chandler slowly rose from the table and went to get dressed for the hospital.   
  
"You go in first," Chandler said as they stood in the elevator. Sam turned to face him.   
"You sure?"   
"Yeah," he said with a nod.  
"I didn't tell her you were here," she said, slightly worried.  
"That's okay," he replied. "She'll find out soon enough." They exited the elevator, and Chandler watched as Sam dashed ahead and into Monica's room. He sluggishly took a seat outside the room and leaned his head back against the wall. After what seemed like mere seconds but in reality was over fifteen minutes, the door opened again and Sam bounded out, smiling. She hovered over Chandler as he opened his eyes.  
"Go see her," she coaxed him. "I told her she had a visitor." Chandler stood up, suddenly stricken with fear, and nervously ran his hands through his hair.   
"Do I look okay?" he asked, smoothing his shirt. Sam smiled.  
"You look great," she assured him, pushing him gently toward the door. He took a deep breath and opened it.  
  
As Monica heard the door open, she opened her eyes and was shocked at what she saw. Thinking she was either dreaming or hallucinating from her medication, she blinked a few times in a vain attempt to clear her vision. When his voice cut through the air, she realized that it was neither a dream nor a hallucination.  
"Hello, Monica." He gazed at her face, which he was sure mirrored the expression his had held when he'd first encountered Sam. Her piercing blue eyes were wide with shock, and her face was pale. He wondered whether that was because of her medical condition or his presence, but ultimately decided that it was probably a combination of both.  
"Ch- Chandler?" She choked out the name, not daring to believe that it was he who was standing in front of her. He looked exactly as she remembered him, although a little bit older, a change that suited him. He nodded and gestured toward the flowers on her bedside.   
"I was here yesterday, but..." he trailed off, unsure of how to end it. She peeked at the flowers and turned to face him again.  
"Thank you. They're beautiful." Her eyes filled with tears when she saw that the majority of the bouquet were daisies. He'd remembered. As the air grew thick with tension, she cleared her throat. "What- What are you doing here?" she stammered. She thought she saw his eyes narrow slightly as he sat down in a chair to the side of her bed.  
"Sam came and found me," he replied simply. Monica closed her eyes. She knew that she owed him such a huge explanation and apology, and she hadn't the slightest idea of where to begin.  
"Chandler," she began, but was cut off by him.  
"Not now, Monica," he interrupted, knowing fully well what subject she was going to address. "We'll have plenty of time for all that later. I'm going to be here for awhile." Her expression flickered, and he wondered whether it was contentment or fear. "Right now, just work on getting out of here, okay?" She simply nodded, dumbfounded, and watched as he quickly and quietly left the room. She let her head fall back against her pillow, her head spinning. She'd dreamt of what it would be like to see him again since the day she left New York, and now that dream had come true, but at the same time she was terrified. Now she would have to see the agony that she had caused, and she didn't know how on earth she was going to make it up to him. She closed her eyes, fearful that he would never forgive her and that she'd have to live knowing it. Unaware of the tear that trickled out of the corner of her eye, she tried to push the thoughts out of her mind as she fell asleep.  
  
"Yeah, right," Chandler said laughing, as he stopped the car at a red light.  
"It's true," Sam said with a giggle. "I actually said it to his face." Chandler laughed again as he stepped on the gas and left the hospital parking lot a week later. As Monica watched from the backseat, she couldn't believe what she was seeing. There were so many times when she had imagined what it would be like for Chandler and Sam to know each other, and now she saw that she no longer had to wonder. She sat silently with her encased leg propped up across the backseat, just listening to them laugh together. Sam seemed so at ease with him, and she wondered how long he had been in North Carolina. Monica smiled when she saw how well they got along. She had always noticed that Sam had Chandler's sense of humor, and it was even more obvious as they sat in the car joking together. She found herself gazing at Chandler, her eyes locked on him and unable to let go, almost as though she was afraid that if she looked away, he would disappear. She wished that she could see his baby blue eyes from where she was sitting, but at the same time, she knew that she would never have the courage to look into them. She was too afraid of unleashing the anger that she was sure existed below the surface. Monica found that she was almost relieved that Sam had found Chandler so that she wouldn't ever have to be the one to break the news to him, although she knew that the harder part would be the explanation and the apology that she knew loomed in the near future. Fifteen minutes later, Chandler parked the car outside the apartment and got out to help Monica. Once they were out of the car, Sam turned to Mon. "Mom, is it okay if I take the car and go to Nic's for a little while?" Monica immediately tensed when she realized that she would be alone with Chandler if Sam left. Unable to think of a reason to say no and not wanting Chandler to think she was avoiding him, she nodded. "Thanks, Mom," Sam answered happily and gave her a peck on the cheek. "'Bye, Dad," she said, jumped in the car, and drove off.   
"C'mon," he encouraged Monica as he helped her slowly up the stairs toward her apartment.  
  
"Thanks," she said quietly as he handed her a cup of coffee. He nodded and took a seat next to her on the couch. "So," she began, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that had surrounded them since they got home. "How long have you been here?"  
"Week and a half," he replied shortly.  
"Oh." She took a sip of her coffee and turned the mug around in her hands, afraid to look at him. When he realized that she wasn't going to broach the subject, Chandler sighed.  
"Why, Monica?" he asked gently.   
"Why what?" she answered meekly, knowing perfectly well what he was talking about. He moved and sat on the coffee table in front of her so that she had to face him.   
"You know what," he said, slightly annoyed but still gently. "Why did you leave me? Because of Sam?" The way he said it made her leaving seem like such an extreme way out of a simple situation, and she suddenly felt foolish. She nodded slightly and he sighed. "Why?" She shrugged, not knowing what to tell him. He sat silently for a few moments, and then spoke again. "Did you think I'd leave you?" he asked gently, his voice implying that her thinking so was ridiculous. For the first time since they'd sat down, she let herself look at him and shrugged.  
"It wasn't so much that," she began, barely above a whisper. Chandler could feel the anger that he had suppressed so well begin to mount.  
"Well, what then?" She took a deep breath and tried to explain the reasoning that suddenly seemed so absurd.  
"We were so young," she began, looking into his eyes that demanded an explanation. "So young," she repeated. "I found out a month before finals that I was pregnant, and I was so scared. I knew I couldn't have an abortion, and I knew that I could never give up my baby for adoption. But at the same time, I didn't want to ruin your adolescence." She paused, unsure of how to continue. "We were both so young, and I didn't want what we had to be ruined because of a baby. I couldn't bear the thought of you resenting me for taking away your youth, and I couldn't bear the thought of doing so. I thought I was doing the right thing... I didn't want your future to be decided by a consequence, so I thought that if I left, you could get on with your life and be everything you could be. I didn't want to hold you back," she finished, averting her eyes once again.   
"And you don't think missing you for sixteen years has held me back?" he asked, his voice a mixture of annoyance and tenderness. "Wondering where you were, why you left? If you were okay? Jesus, Mon, I was destroyed when you left me. And I can't believe that you didn't think you could tell me... you knew how much I loved you." Monica noticed that he said "loved," and she wondered if he would ever love her again, or at least forgive her. He stood up, feeling his anger get the better of him. "How could you leave me?" he demanded. "Do you have any idea what you did to me?" She dropped her head in shame, feeling her eyes sting as the forming tears threatened to spill over. "To just leave... no explanation, nothing. And what about your family, and Rach? What the hell were you thinking?" She shook her head and brushed away the tears that had fallen, looking up at him once again.   
"I was trying to do the right thing... mostly for you," she said, hoping that he would at least understand why it had seemed like a good idea at the time.  
"By not letting me know my own child? By breaking my heart? By making me think I wasn't good enough? Which part of that exactly was 'for my own good'?" he challenged. Although she knew that she had little if any right to get angry, she could feel herself getting defensive.  
"Please, Chandler... please try and understand..."  
"No," he interrupted. "I'll never be able to understand this." With that, he turned and walked out, needing to get away, if only for the space to think. Monica watched his retreating figure helplessly as she let the tears freely fall.  
  
"Mom, I'm home," Sam called as she threw the car keys on the table inside the apartment door. "Mom?" She walked quietly into the kitchen to find Monica sitting at the kitchen table with an album open in front of her. As she entered, Monica looked up and tried to smile.   
"Hi, sweetheart," she greeted her quietly.   
"Is everything okay?" Sam asked, worried. She noted that Chandler didn't appear to be in the apartment, and she prayed that he hadn't gone back to New York. Monica ignored the question and simply patted the seat next to her. Sam obediently sat down and gestured toward the album on the table. "What's that?" Her mother was silent for a moment before responding.  
"This is from before you were born," she began. "Photos." She gestured toward a carton the size of a shoebox on the floor next to her. "And old letters and stuff," she added in a low voice. "I guess it's time that I told you about me," she finished, not sounding like she wanted to do so at all. She turned the book of photographs so that it was facing Sam and pointed to the first picture. "My prom," she said with a sad smile. As Sam examined every detail the photograph held, she felt a rush of combined happiness and sorrow hit her when she saw the smiles on her parents' young faces. She turned and looked into her mother's face and winced when she saw the hurt that it clearly held. Monica looked back at her, trying not to cry, but when she looked into Sam's face and recognized, as she had so many times in the past, how much she looked like her father, she couldn't hold back any longer and burst into tears.  
  
"Calm down, man, she's fine now," Chandler repeated into the phone. "Yes, I'm sure." Pause. "Broken leg." Pause. "A week." Another pause, followed by a sigh. "Charlotte. Yeah, North Carolina. I don't know how long, all I know is that she lives here now." As he listened to Ross's near-hysterical questioning, Chandler took another mouthful of his beer. "Right now? In a bar near their apartment." Pause. "They. Her and Sam." Pause. "Her daughter." He moved the phone away from his ear as Ross's voice turned into a screech, from which he gathered that Rachel hadn't, as he had initially assumed, told Ross. "Look, why don't you just come, like you said, and everything can be explained then?" A momentary silence. "Okay... I'll call you in an hour to get your flight details, okay?" After saying goodbye, he hung up, finished his drink, and headed out of the bar and back to Monica and Sam's apartment.  
  
"Where's Sam?" he asked coolly when he returned.   
"She went to spend the night at Nicole's house," Monica answered carefully. "I told her all about us... our past..." she trailed off, uncertain of how to continue.  
"Well, better late than never," Chandler answered icily. Monica bowed her head, realizing that it was going to be awhile before he forgave her, if he ever did. He sighed. "Look, Monica, I don't want to fight." She lifted her eyes once again and he recognized the hopeful look in them. "But I'm still angry," he continued. "I still... I don't know what to say. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about this. I mean, you leave, you break my heart, and then sixteen years later, some girl shows up and tells me that she's my long lost daughter? This almost sounds like something my mother would write, minus the kinky details." He ran a hand through his hair as he sighed. Monica remained silent, knowing that there was nothing she could say that would give him any answers. "I love Sam," he went on. "I've only known her for eleven days, and yet I love her as though I've known her for all her life. But I just... I don't know what I'm supposed to do here." It was then that he realized that Monica was crying, and he took a step toward her and lifted her chin so that she was looking into his eyes. It was the first time that he'd let himself just look at her, and as he did, he could feel something deep within, a feeling that he knew he hadn't felt for years. The piercing blue of her eyes brought with it memories of the past. As she gazed back at him intently, he could remember with perfect clarity the sweetness of her kiss and the way her hair smelled. He could vividly recall the way she would whisper a soft "I love you" in his ear and how her delicate hands fit so perfectly in his own. He reminisced about the nights they had spent together in his dorm room, and the night of her prom. When he realized how long ago that was and how many years had been lost since, he felt his heart grow heavier. He noticed that it was no longer heavy with anger, but with regret. Regret that he'd missed the birth of his child and remorse at knowing that he hadn't seen her first steps or heard her first word. Regret that so many years of what could have been happiness and love had been wasted. The anger he had felt toward Monica slowly evaporated as she looked back at him and he recognized a similar pain that was mirrored in her own eyes. Without realizing that he was doing so, he reached up and gently brushed away her tears. His eyes were locked on hers as they silently shared the emotions that each had felt for so long. Slowly and hesitantly, he leaned in closer to her as she gazed up at him, feeling the fear and longing take over. Both sets of pained eyes closed as their lips met in a gentle kiss that each had awaited for so long. Momentarily losing themselves in the kiss, they found themselves in a tight embrace as the kiss deepened. Then, suddenly, roughly, Chandler pulled away and stepped back quickly. "I- I'm sorry," he stammered. "I... I can't." As he backed away from her, unwilling to look her in the eyes, he apologized again and retreated to his room, closing the door behind him as Monica sank back onto the couch, emotionally and physically drained, wondering if there would ever again come a time when they would share the kisses that had made her fall in love with him.  
  



	5. Coming of Age, Part Five

"Ross, over here!" Chandler called the next day, as he waved at the familiar figure. Almost instantly, he was enveloped in a hug shared by both Ross and Rachel. "Yeah, good to see you guys, too," he managed. "Air," he pleaded after a moment. The hug broke and Ross and Rachel stared at him intently.  
"Well?"  
"Well what?"  
"Where is she? They?" Ross added.  
"Sam's at school and Monica's at home. Her home," he added quickly. Ross looked confused. "I didn't tell her you were coming," Chandler added sheepishly.  
"You what?" Rachel exclaimed. "Why not?" He shrugged. "Well, I guess she'll find out soon enough," she said, not wanting to press him, as it was obvious he'd been through quite a lot. "We ready?" Chandler nodded and indicated for them to follow him to the car.   
"How is she?" Ross asked nervously. He hadn't been able to think of anything but Monica since he'd heard from Chandler. Finally, after so many years, he'd get to see his sister again, as well as his niece.  
"She's fine," Chandler replied. "Her cast comes off next week and she's healing fine... most of the injuries healed while she was in the hospital, so her leftover recovery time is pretty much at a minimum."  
"And how are you?" Rachel asked.  
"Fine," he answered, and sensing that he didn't want to talk about it, she let the subject drop and looked out the window, barely able to contain her excitement.  
  
"Chandler, is that you?" Monica's voice floated from the kitchen as the apartment door opened.  
"Yeah," he replied as he dropped the keys on the table and put Rachel's bag inside the door. Monica hobbled out of the kitchen and was once again stunned at the sight before her. Ross, being that he was far less shocked, rushed at her.   
"Mon!" He seized her in a tight embrace, although careful not to hurt her. Monica, at a loss for words, stood unmoving, staring at Rachel and Chandler who stood by the door. Once she found her voice, she ventured a whisper.  
"Hi, Ross." He let go and stood back, looking her up and down. She noticed that there were tears in his eyes and felt instantly guilty once again. Rachel silently approached her, almost nervously, and hugged her tightly, not saying a word. When she released her, Monica shifted her weight nervously and looked at the floor. "Well, uh... come in. I guess... uh... we should talk." She turned and limped toward the den as the other three silently followed her.  
  
Hours later, once the conversation had become much more manageable and most of the details had been cleared up, the four were seated in the den drinking coffee and talking, almost as if they were back in college. The only one who remained somewhat removed from the conversation was Chandler, who was still rather bewildered and dealing with his own thoughts. As the talk calmed down, they heard the door open and both Ross and Rachel's eyes widened at the realization that they were about to meet Monica's daughter. "Mom, Dad?" They both turned toward the entrance in anticipation. As Sam entered the room she froze, momentarily confused until she realized that the faces staring at her closely mirrored those that she had seen in her mother's album. "Uh... hi." She greeted them nervously.  
"Sam, sweetheart, this is my brother... your uncle, Ross, and this is my best friend, Rachel," Monica introduced. "Guys, this is Sam. My daughter. Our daughter," she corrected. Sam smiled. "Finally," she thought. "Finally, maybe Mom will get her life back." When she looked at Chandler's troubled expression, her thoughts continued. "Maybe not necessarily a relationship with my Dad ever again," she thought sadly, "but at least she has her friends back." She smiled again as she looked at the four faces and wondered how long it would take to rebuild the bridges.  
  
"So what's going on with you two?" Rachel asked inquisitively as she sat with Chandler in the bar a few days later.  
"What do you mean?" he asked sullenly.  
"You and Monica. What's going on?" Chandler sighed and emptied his glass, waving to the bartender to get him another.  
"I don't know. I guess nothing." Sensing that there was at least something he wasn't telling her, Rachel persisted.  
"You guess nothing? Come on, Chandler, I know you better than that. You've been here for over two weeks, living in her house... you mean to tell me that NOTHING has gone on. You have to have at least talked, right?" He nodded glumly.  
"Yeah," he answered half-heartedly. "We talked."  
"And?"  
"And...?"  
"What did you talk ABOUT?"  
"Sam. Why she left. That's about it."  
"Well, what did she say?"  
"Something about she didn't want to take away my youth," he answered bitterly as he thanked the barman for his drink. "She thought she was doing me a favor." He snorted. "Some favor." Rachel sighed. "And... uh... we kissed."   
"WHAT?!" she exclaimed, sending a mouthful of beer over the counter. "Sorry," she apologized to the bartender sheepishly. She turned once again to Chandler. "You WHAT?"  
"Nothing big... it just... kinda... happened. We were talking, she was crying... one thing led to another and I couldn't help myself."  
"What happened after you kissed?" Rachel asked excitedly.  
"Nothing," he replied simply. "I stopped, told her I couldn't and went to bed." Rachel sighed.  
"Why'd you do that?" Chandler turned to face her, somewhat annoyed.  
"What do you mean, 'why'd I do that?' She LEFT me! She ran away, WITH MY DAUGHTER! If she hadn't gotten into a car accident, I might NEVER have known my own child! I might never have known what happened to her, or why she left! I can't just forget all that," he answered defensively. Rachel sighed, shaking her head.  
"No one expects you to, Chandler," she told him gently. "But you can't pretend that you don't still love her. You can't deny your feelings... that's just lying to yourself." She shook her head as Chandler tried to object and went on. "You have loved her since the day she left you, and not once has that faltered. I know that you're still hurting, and I'm not trying to undermine that, but have you taken the time to think about her as well? I know that she left you, I know that it might have been the wrong thing to do, but think about what HER life has been like since she left. You had to deal with a broken heart, and I know how difficult that was, I was there. But she had one too, you'd better believe it. Plus, she was dealing with a broken heart, a pregnancy at the age of nineteen, the fact that she had moved away from her home, and the knowledge that she was going to be a single mother. And I know that you thought that maybe she didn't love you, but you have NO idea how untrue that is. I never told you this because I didn't want to upset you, but I remember the way she used to talk about you all the time, and how jealous I got when she would spend ALL of her time with you. She loved you, and there is no doubt in my mind that she still does. It's obvious in the way she gazes at you, and the way she watches you when you're not looking. She still loves you, and all you have to do is let her know that you forgive her... then both of you can have all of your pain healed."  
"But..." Chandler paused, trying to think of an argument. "I don't know HOW to forgive her," he eventually said, knowing how childish it sounded. Rachel sighed.  
"If you love her... you'll figure it out."   
Chandler silently turned his glass around on the counter, lost in thought.  
  
Two weeks later, Ross and Rachel were preparing to leave for New York the following day. Monica had gotten her cast off a week earlier, and things had almost returned to normal, with the exception of the three extra people around at all times. Little had happened between Chandler and Monica... he'd been keeping his distance, and with Ross and Rachel nearby, there had been no opportunities for her to talk to him alone. He was going to be heading back to New York soon, and she wondered if anything would be resolved before that day came. She couldn't bear the thought of him leaving and their only contact being through Sam, and she prayed that things would be resolved before he left. A part of her wished that he didn't have to go back, that he would stay in North Carolina, but she knew that such thoughts were foolish. He has his own life, she reminded herself. She had found herself numerous times wondering if that life included a girlfriend, but Rachel had confided in her that Chandler's dating habits were relatively uneventful and non-committed. Monica felt a combination of guilt and relief when she heard that; she was felt guiltily satisfied that another woman hadn't captured his heart, but at the same time she wondered if he sabotaged himself as a result of her leaving him. She prayed that she'd be given the opportunity to at least get everything out in the open before he left. The questions and thoughts that had occupied her mind and heart for so many years were even stronger now that she was so close to having them answered. She sighed and knocked on the door to the room where Chandler and Ross were talking. Despite the fact that Ross and Rachel had been staying at a nearby hotel, they were always at Monica's apartment unless they were sleeping. She pushed the door open when Ross's voice invited her in. "I was thinking," she began quickly, avoiding Chandler's penetrating eyes, "that we should celebrate tonight. We should enjoy your last night here," she added, and was relieved when Ross nodded in agreement. "There's a restaurant nearby that's really nice... I thought the four of us could go. It'd be like old times," she added.   
"Sure, that sounds good," Ross agreed. Monica nodded and smiled, exiting quickly as the nervousness at being in the same room as Chandler took over once again.  
  
"How do I look?" Monica asked as she nervously smoothed the front of her dress.  
"Sweetie, for the thousandth time, you look wonderful. And he's going to think so, too," she added with a smile.  
"Rach, please," Monica said, blushing, as she picked up her purse off of the bed. "Ready?" Rachel nodded and followed her out of the room. As they headed toward the den, Monica had a momentary flashback of her high school prom, and was struck with an ironic sense of deja vu. As they walked into the den, Ross and Chandler rose from the couch where they had been sitting. "Wow," Ross said with a smile. "You guys look great."  
"Thank you," Rachel said, beaming, as Monica nervously smiled. Chandler gazed at her, hit with the same memories that had clouded Monica's mind only moments beforehand. Ross offered Rachel his arm and escorted her out of the apartment. Chandler timidly offered Monica his, and she took it gratefully.   
"He was right," he said nervously. "You look... beautiful."   
Monica felt the flush creep up her neck and was fairly certain that her cheeks were red as she stammered a nervous "thank you." He smiled and led her out the door through which Ross and Rachel had already exited.  
  
As they sat at the table drinking coffee after their meal, each of the four thought sadly of the fact that this could be the last time for awhile that they were together. They had all enjoyed the days of reminiscing, and despite the palpable tension between Chandler and Monica, the week had been a happy one. As a familiar song came on, Ross stood up and pointed toward the dance floor. "Well, sis, how about doing your old brother a favor and dancing?" Monica smiled and gently placed her napkin on the tablecloth.  
"I guess I could do that," she said agreeably as she walked with him to the center of the room. When they were gone, Chandler turned to Rachel, stood up, and held out his hand.  
"Rach?" She smiled and accepted as they joined their friends on the dance floor.  
"You know," Rachel began once they had started dancing, "this would be an opportune time for you and Monica to strike up some conversation." Chandler sighed.   
"Maybe." After a moment, she spoke again.  
"I remember when we tried the whole dating thing," Rachel said to him.  
"Yeah," he said, laughing slightly. "That lasted what, a half-hour?" She looked at him sadly.  
"That's longer than the majority of your relationships last." He looked at her, momentarily offended, but deep down knew that she was right. "There's a reason for that, Chandler," she added.  
"I know," he said simply, at which point Rachel let it go. As the song drew to a close, she pulled away from him. "Dance with her, Chandler," she advised. He nodded and made his way to where Ross and Monica were standing.   
"May I cut in?" he asked nervously. Ross smiled and nodded, walking away and toward Rachel. The next song began, and Chandler almost sighed at the irony of it as he took Monica in his arms. She smiled nervously up at him before draping her arms around his neck as he rested his hands lightly around her waist.  
  
When the road gets dark, and you can no longer see,  
Just let my love throw a spark and have a little faith in me.  
When the tears you cry are all you can believe,   
Just give these loving arms a try, baby, and have a little faith in me.  
Have a little faith in me,  
Have a little faith in me.  
  
He heard her sigh as she rested her head gently on his shoulder and he felt his stomach churn as the smell of her hair drifted upward and overpowered him. "I wish you'd had faith in me, Mon," he whispered into her hair as they swayed back and forth to the music. Not trusting herself to look into his eyes, she kept her head on his shoulder as her eyes filled with tears and he sighed again, tightening his grip ever so slightly.  
  
  
When your secret heart cannot speak so easily,  
Come here darlin, from the whisper of stars,  
To have a little faith in me.  
And when your back's against the wall, just turn around and you will see,  
I will catch you, I will catch your fall, baby, just have a little faith in me.  
Have a little faith in me,  
Have a little faith in me.  
  
After a few moments, she found the courage to speak and her small voice broke the silence between them. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, knowing how inadequate an apology it was, but at the same time knowing that she didn't know what more to say. "I'm so sorry, Chandler," she repeated as the tears spilled over. She felt reassured when he rubbed her back and she pulled away to look at him. He felt a pang when he saw the tears that glistened in her eyes and dampened her cheeks, and he wondered what he could do to fix the situation.   
  
Well I been loving you for such a long time, girl, expecting nothing in return,  
Just for you to have a little faith in me.  
You see time, time is our friend, 'cause for us there is no end,   
And all you gotta do is have a little faith in me.  
I said I will hold you up, I will hold you up,   
Your love gives me strength enough, so have a little faith in me.  
All you gotta do for me girl is have a little bit of faith in me.  
  
As soon as he realized the question, he knew the answer.   
  
"'Night, guys!" Rachel called back as Chandler and Monica dropped them off at their hotel. "We'll see you in the morning. Eleven, right?" Monica nodded as they slammed the door and waved as they retreated into the hotel. As they sat in the car, surrounded by silence, Monica wondered what he was thinking. He hadn't said a word to her since she'd apologized during their dance, and she speculated on whether or not he was still angry. As he pulled up outside her apartment building and turned off the ignition, she wondered if she'd ever be forgiven. She followed him up to the door and shivered in the cool night air as he unlocked it. He held the door open for her and she gave him a small smile as she walked past. As she stood in the den in the darkness, she found herself soothed by the simple fact that he was there with her, and she dreaded the day when he'd be gone again. She heard him drop the keys on the table and come up behind her. She stiffened when she felt his presence and wondered yet again what he was thinking about. She felt an oddly familiar tingle as he helped her off with her coat and laid it over the back of the armchair. She turned to face him and found herself aching to kiss him again, but the thought of him pulling away a second time was far too daunting a possibility to overlook. Wanting to know how angry he still was, she took a deep breath and repeated her apology. "I'm sorry, Chandler," she began, but she was cut off by him shaking his head and placing a finger to her lips. She melted at his touch and gazed intently into his baby blue eyes, hoping against all hope that she would be forgiven.  
"Enough," he said simply. "We've wasted enough years." Wondering what he meant, and hoping she already knew, she frowned slightly. "What's important now," he continued, "is what we're going to do with the future." She felt a glimmer of hope stir deep within and she looked at him pleadingly.   
"And what are we going to do with it?" she asked timidly. He was silent for a moment and once again brushed his hand delicately against her cheek. He half-smiled as he felt her soft skin beneath his fingertips.  
"Make it count," he whispered as he leaned toward her. Their lips met in a much-awaited kiss that deepened with each passing second, and they both found themselves glad that Sam was at Nicole's. Chandler explored her familiar mouth and she returned the kiss hungrily, running her hands through his hair and standing on her tiptoes. Wrapping his strong arms around her small waist, he lifted her up effortlessly and made his way toward her bedroom. As they entered the room, they fell back onto Monica's bed, kissing eagerly, enjoying the feeling of doing so. Monica felt her heart swell as Chandler's hands ran gently over her body, as if reminding himself what it felt like to touch her. "Monica," he whispered into her skin as he peppered her neck with delicate kisses. All of the ache he'd felt for so long vanished and was replaced with a need so strong that he was almost fearful of it. He pulled away suddenly and Monica looked up at him, worried that he was going to walk out again.   
"Don't leave again," he said, his eyes pleading. "Please," he begged. Mon's eyes filled with tears again and she reached out a hand to caress his cheek.  
"Oh, sweetheart," she whispered. "Never." Reassured, he leaned in toward her and kissed her tenderly once again.  
  
The next morning, as he awoke, Chandler was momentarily confused when he realized he was not in the room he'd been sleeping in for the past two weeks. As he looked down and saw Monica in his arms, his heart skipped and his face broke into a smile. He felt as though something were missing, and as he gazed down at her beautiful face, he realized what it was. For years, he had been living with a shadow. A question, an ache, a fear... but as soon as he'd kissed her the night before, the shadow had disappeared. The question had been answered, the ache had been soothed, and the fear had vanished when she'd kissed him back. Knowing that she still loved him filled the void that had dominated his emotions for sixteen years, and being with her again had made him happier than he'd been since before she'd left. As she rolled over and smiled up at him, he felt as though he could fly. "'Morning, gorgeous," he murmured into her ear.   
"Good morning to you, too," she greeted him, and giggled when he kissed her neck.  
"It's been awhile," he said as he brushed his fingers over her arm.  
"Since what?"   
"Since I got to wake up next to you," he said.   
"Well, you won't have to again," she replied. "If you don't want to." He buried his face in her neck and breathed in the smell of her skin.  
"I don't," he whispered as, for the first time in years, he allowed himself to be happy.  



End file.
